Save Yourself
by Juusan Ikkiuchi
Summary: Saving yourself has never been this tough or this complicated. Seiftis.
1. Chapter One

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Disclaimer: **I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we? 

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter One**_

_...Cause I want to learn_

_Can you save yourself?_

_For someone who_

_Loves you for you_

_Who loves me for me_

_So many times you just give it away _

_For someone who_

_Can't even remember your name…_

_So you save yourself _

_For someone who loves you for you_

_Loves me for me_

_Give it away_

_To someone who, someone who_

_Will cherish your name…_

"That was Save Yourself, by Sense Field. Coming up next is a set of three with The Cactuars, 50 Gil and Doomtrain, after an update on the weather. Remember you can call our weather hotline for up-to-date, accurate 3-day forecasts. Our number is 1-800-857-2562. You're listening to BLMB 99.3, Balamb's official light rock station!"

She reached out a sleep-disoriented hand. In one languid sweep, she sent the alarm clock, as well as half the things on her dresser, crashing to the floor. Snapping to her senses, she tossed aside the bedsheets and see the damage. Ironically, this was probably the messiest her one-person dorm had ever been.

"Shoot…Hope that contact cleaner will come out of the carpet." She sifted through the other remnants, including her small collection of jewelry, assorted writing utensils and Save the Queen. Once coming to the conclusion that nothing was broken, she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes and continued her morning routine. Couldn't get back to sleep now even if I wanted to, she thought grimly.

She wasn't even fully awake until the coffee maker 'pinged' to life. Over the stress of getting her teaching license back, she had developed an unhealthy addiction to the stuff. It was like a friend of sorts, comforting her on her late nights reading and preparing for classes. Oh, her classes…She mainly taught simple weapons combat, especially the whip, as well as Basic and Advanced Juntioning. Every other day she went to the GF training centre and let students work with them for short periods of time. Teaching, going on the odd mission, being a figurehead in the Garden as a participant in the Second Sorceress War and as the youngest instructor…Quistis had everything she ever wanted.

Or did she. Sometimes on those nights she spent tapping away on her laptop, sipping coffee and glancing at the clock every so often, watching as it flashed 2:00AM, then 3:30 AM, she began to wonder if there was something more out there for her. If there was someone out there for her. But the thoughts would fade as she printed out the latest mission report and settled down for a restless 2 hours of sleep.

The concealer worked wonders. No one could notice the dark rings under her eyes with a dash of fleshtone powder. Looking in the mirror, her exhausted ice blue eyes stared back at her, clearly expressing her fatigue, but at least she no longer looked like a raccoon. She scanned the top of her dresser, looking for a hair clip. I could do something different with it, she thought, maybe a braid, maybe let it out for once…the thoughts died as quickly as they came, as she tied her hair in the ever-Quistis style, leaving some strands in front and tying it back. Same thing she did yesterday morning, most likely the same thing she would do tomorrow morning, give or take a cup of coffee.

She sighed, adding a bit more powder and drinking the last of her caffeine-loaded sludge. Zipping up the front of her peach-colored suit, and slipping on her burgundy gloves, she looked like the ideal Instructor Trepe: calm, cool, collected and not a hair out of place. The Ice Queen, she noted grimly, how could I forget. She made a mental note to clean the contact lens cleaner out of the carpet later, grabbed Save the Queen and headed for the 2F classroom.

"Instructor Trepe, can I have an autograph please?" Quistis forced a weak smile as she spotted the usual herd of 'Trepies' hovering outside her classroom door. Even with her license being taken away and given back, her notorious fan club never died.

"Not this morning, please. Meet me after class and we'll talk then." She stepped forward into the doorway. In her peripheral vision she could've sworn she saw a girl swoon – at the mere concept of talking to her. It was pathetic…Quistis shook her head slightly and organized the day's lesson, shuffling papers and opening her books. Today was a demonstration of Time/Space Magic refining and junctioning. She stared down at the schedule.

_T/S Mag Junct: Wizard Stones – ref to – Haste (have stud. cast Haste on each other)_

Wonderful, all she needed was a classroom of students running around like monkeys on crack. Taking a pen from her desk, she neatly scratched out 'Haste' and replaced it with an equally neat 'Slow' and 'Stop'.

Continuing to write down the day's schedule, she absently minded the flow of students coming in, noting that none were late. At least she had an effect on her class, unlike previous years…she smiled wryly at the thought of her most memorable, and not in a good way, student, Seifer Almasy.

Oh, Seifer. Headstrong, stubborn, and enough ego and arrogance for a whole country. Talented with a gunblade, far from stupid in strategy and knowledge…Perfect in almost every aspect except attitude, which Quistis assumed ranked somewhere in the negatives. Tall, powerful, piercing and fiery green eyes that radiated his passion for battle, taunting and forcing opponents into submission. Short, slightly spiked blond hair, that she imagined would be soft if she ran her hands through it. Wait, this couldn't be Quistis Trepe thinking this!

A faded scar crossing his nose, marring his otherwise clear complexion. A mouth always twisted into a sneer or a smirk. The one soldier, or 'knight' as he was dubbed during the second war, that everyone loved to hate. A passionate man, no, only a teenager – struck down by following his dreams…

"Uh, Instructor Trepe?" Quistis snapped back to reality when a random student broke the silence like glass. Blushing a faint shade of red, she stood up and started passing out sheets of paper with information on juntioning Time/Space Magic, as if her mind had never drifted off the enthralling subject.

"Alright. Today class, we will learn how to refine Time and Space Magic from items and also learn how to junction and use it in battle. Time and Space magic can be refined from items such as Lightweights, or Wizard stones, using the 'Time Mag-RF' ability, which is an ability learned by the GF Diablos. Today we will be using M-Stone pieces to refine 5 Slow spells…"

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

He was sitting on the docks, watching a fisherman retch into the harbor waters after eating a badamb fish. A dog had just recently rooted through a nearby dumpster, spewing assorted garbage on the pavement, which no one bothered to put back, or even notice, for that matter. Anything beyond the hotel had turned into a literal slum, filled with bad bars and hookers on the corners at night. Whoever made those touristy postcards expressing the beauty of Balamb obviously never lived in Balamb.

He crushed the can in his fist and chucked in into the water. It floated for a minute, then bubbled at the surface and sunk. Sort of like something he knew…the thought nagged at the back of his mind. He chose to ignore it and sifted through his tattered trenchcoat pocket for a few gil to get a drink, there was nothing better to do around here. Oh sure, he could get a job, he could travel around, he could do something with his life…then again, he could win the lottery just the same. It just wasn't worth the effort.

The nearest bar was, of course, a cheap run-down building, the sign blaring "Harbor Hopper's" and hanging on by a shred of rope. The paint was peeling, windows were cracked, but if it had cold beer it didn't matter to him. Opening the door (noting that it too, was about to fall off) he stepped into the establishment, letting a wave of hot air smother him.

The place was just as charming on the inside as it was on the outside. The bar was made from scrap lumber and had burn marks and phone numbers scrawled onto the counter, the cheap stools were either wobbling like a drunk man or occupied by one. He gazed past the bar, noting the horrible attempt at creating an fishing atmosphere; fishing nets placed here and there, and broken lobster traps stuffed in corners. Turning around, he came face to face with a grotesque stuffed seagull, confirming his decision to get the hell out of there.

I'll just grab a beer and run, he thought, this place stinks like sex and sweat and even I have standards…Pulling out the last of his Gil, bought a six-pack of beer that could have expired last week or last year, and got the hell out of 'Hopper's', leaving the smokers, alcoholics and hookers alone in their home. A wisp of heavy smoke followed him out of the bar, as if it wanted a breath of fresh air like he did.

He resumed his seat on the dock, opening a can and taking a long drink. He grimaced at the taste, but hey, alcohol was alcohol. It doesn't matter how it tastes, as long as it makes you forget what you've been trying for forget for a year, even if it's only for an hour…

The fisherman was still puking when Seifer finished the last can and threw it into the water to meet the same fate as the others.

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Gee, thanks for the great lesson, Instructor Trepe. I really learned a lot today!" Quistis smiled at the junior classman, it always made her happy when someone actually enjoyed learning as much as she did. It almost made every day worth it.

"You're very welcome." She filed away the papers on Time magic. The class had gone smoothly, and the students had gotten a kick out of casting Slow spells on each other. She was a bit tired from using Diablos to refine the magic, she hadn't had to junction and use Diablos since the lesson on refining Status Recovery Medicine. Double-checking her schedule, she wrote down to run by the lab and drop of the GF before lunch, as well as to sign out Ifrit for the afternoon junior rifle class. It would be a convenient time to teach them how to refine ammunition.

As Quistis walked to the lab, her mind traveled back to Seifer. He had been convicted of countless counts of murder but was hiding, Hyne knows where. He could be dead for all I know, or care, she thought bitterly. She paused. Did she really want Seifer Almasy dead? Everyone else does, but it was all a misunderstanding. Few people could bring themselves to realize that Seifer was possessed during that time and had no control over his action. But no, they just turned him into THE criminal, THE man to kill.

She missed him. Quistis would never dare tell anyone this, why ruin her perfect façade? But she did, she missed his quick wit, their arguments – Seifer was the only one who could hold a candle to her in verbal fights – and behind all that arrogance and his stained hands, there was a man of gold. Too bad he never showed it to anybody, or things might have been different…What if he had opened up to you? Her mind asked.

"It's too late. He's gone now. He's gone forever." She said aloud. When she realized what she had done, she covered her mouth in embarrassment. A few students walking by stared at her strangely, whispering as they passed, no doubt questioning her sanity. Quistis shook her head. Seifer had been on her mind a little more than she'd wanted lately. Even her studies were suffering. She couldn't study gunblade tactics without picturing his lithe 6-foot body standing poised with Hyperion. She could see him fighting in her mind, every stab, swing and parry flowed together like a deadly dance.

Taking a seat on the bench outside the Training Center, she thought back to the days of the orphanage. Since cutting back on GF usage, her childhood memories had come trickling back like melting ice. She could remember vague memories of her home; the beach, the lighthouse and the vast fields of Centra Point. She could remember the people who lived with her; kind and gentle Matron, Ellone, the 'sister' to all of them, rambunctious Selphie, the loner Squall, sensible Irvine (hmm, some things do change, she thought), energetic Zell…and of course, wild Seifer…

Seifer and herself had been inseparable, best of friends Actually, looking back, she might have been Seifer's only friend. They did stuff like throw spiders at Selphie and watch her run away squealing. They went swimming, caught grasshoppers in the long grass on the edge of the sandy beach and looked for salamanders under rocks. She remembered when she built sandcastles in the sand, pretending she was the queen of the castle. Seifer would always pretend he was her knight, waving a piece of driftwood around as a make-believe sword before he eventually smashed her creation. That would usually be followed by a lively game of tag, leaving them tired, sweaty, and grass stained. Matron always marveled at the grass stains, Quistis vaguely remembered her saying she was only going to buy green clothes for her and Seifer so she wouldn't have to wash them twice a day.

She remembered the day they made the kites. Matron had given them some paper to draw on, but Seifer had found some string and sticks. They went down to the beach and colored the paper with stubby crayons, using wooden boards as makeshift clipboards.

She had never been much of an artist, but the kite stood out as one of her better pieces of art. She had drawn a blue bird, wings clipped by the edge of the paper, and under it, her name – a big waxy red 'Quisty'. Seifer had drawn himself with a sword…a badly drawn figure with the head much too big. (Quistis snickered inwardly, couldn't have been more accurate.) It was accented by green dots for eyes and a shock of yellow scribble for hair.

He had also written his name on his kite, an illegibly scrawled "Seifer". She remembered how much trouble they had getting them in the air, running wildly through the field, pleading to the wind to accept their kites, and their elation when they started to fly.

They had stayed in the field for hours, eventually laying in the tall grass, holding onto the strings and gazing up at their kites…the bluebird flying among the real ones, and the crayoned Seifer hovering among the clouds like a childish deity. It was a wonderful and memorable day…She wondered what it would be like to be that carefree again, where her only worry would be whether she could get a kite in the air, and whether she could get it to fly higher than Seifer's. Sadly, things had changed. She had changed, from a curious little kid to an instructor and an ice queen. Seifer had changed from her best friend to a public enemy, and was most likely dead. She cringed at the thought. The truth hurt, but did it have to hurt this much?

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Seifer woke up between two garbage cans. A mangy-looking cat was inches away from his face, with breath that could kill small animals wafting from its mouth.

"Beat it, cat!" he shoved the feline with a wide sweep of his arm, watching in irritation as it yowled and dashed off, knocking over yet another garbage can. "Damn it, how did I end up here?" He brushed the dirt and debris off his sleeves and coat, checking for Hyperion. It was, thankfully, still there. The last thing he needed was a drunk nut running around with HIS precious sword, the only thing left of his identity, the last thing he owned that made him Seifer Almasy.

"Heat stroke. You passed out, I dragged you over here." He looked over to see the once-puking fisherman leaning up against the wall, a shadow mostly, the sun was setting and he was in the darker end of the alley.

"Why the hell did you do that?"

"You want to get pillaged by thugs while you're out cold? That's a real nice way to thank someone, by the way. I should've just left you there." The shadow moved and left him there alone. Alone, like he had been for 2 years…Friendless, hell he hadn't even gotten laid in months. Every day was a struggle to live, the only things that meant anything to him anymore were Hyperion and distant memories. What would Quistis say if she saw me now?

Quistis. Intelligent, (hell, intelligent doesn't do her justice, he thought to himself) organized and beautiful…But she was so cold. The Ice Queen, if he remembered correctly, after all, he was the one who dubbed her that in the first place. She never had a boyfriend, but Seifer expected that had changed since the end of the war. Quistis was the type that let nobody through her defenses. Seifer admired her for that, she was indeed a strong woman. Crystal clear blue eyes that danced with blue flames when they used to fight, back in the days when he was at Garden. She was different than any other girl he knew…she admired men for their wit and not their body. And he knew, from being in her classes so long ago, she had a great knack for making you feel very stupid.

He wondered if she still thought about him, or if she remembered any of the orphanage days. Like the day they spent a whole afternoon trying to catch fish with a branch, string and a paper clip – to no avail. He had ended up pushing Quistis into the water, laughing as she spluttered and flailed around in the water. It was only after she went under that he realized she couldn't swim. In a panic, he dove into the water and swam through the murkiness, panic seizing a little more of his tiny heart every second. He caught a glimpse of gold, and headed towards it…His eyes widened in relief, and he grabbed her shirt and pulled her close to him, swimming violently towards the surface.

He remembered his pitiful younger self crying her name over and over again on the beach, calling for 'Quisty' to wake up. When she finally coughed up water, he couldn't remember being happier in his whole life. He had hugged her, their first hug, and that very same day he promised he would teach her how to swim.

He ran a hand through his desperately-in-need-of-a-shower blonde hair. He hated to admit it, but he missed Quistis desperately. He needed to make up for everything he had done to her, Hyne, he had tried to kill her more than once when under Ultemicia's power…but she stood strong, Save the Queen in her hands and a determined expression.

Quistis was a forgiving person…but would she forgive him?

"That's it. I'm doing something with my life!" He shouted in the alley, scaring away various rodents in the trash bins and attracting stares from the passerby. The least I can do is see if Quistis would ever take me back…if not a boyfriend, then a friend at least. Hell, Almasy, you've changed, he thought. Before you couldn't give a shit about whether anyone from Garden lived or not, not you're being a weak fool and going back to someone who you know won't take you back?

"Shut up." He told the voice in his head. Seifer picked up his beloved Hyperion and headed for the train station. It was time to change his life.

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"As you should know, there are 8 types of ammunition: Normal, Shotgun or Scatter shot, Dark, Fire, Demolition or Canister shot, Armor Piercing and Pulse Ammunition. I would like a 500-word paper on how each type of ammunition can be used to your advantage in battle by the end of the week. Any questions? No? Alright, you may leave a little bit early today." Books thumped closed, computers beeped as students logged off, and excited chatter sounded the end of class.

Once the classroom was empty and blissfully silent, Quistis slumped over her desk, staring at her desk clock as it blurred in and out of focus. She was just nodding off when there was a beep at the classroom door. Her head shot up, and she fiddled with her hair trying to regain what little composure she had left. Selphie stuck her head in the door, her personality still as hyper and bubbly, and her hair still as gravity-defying as ever.

"Quis, we've been looking all over for you!" She was just about to ask who 'we' was but then Rinoa, Zell and Irvine tumbled into the room. They crowded around her desk like a swarm of Trepies. A glance to the door showed a few jealous Trepies glaring at the small group.

"Well, if you'd take the time to look at a clock, you'd notice that classes are still going on. I just happened to let my class off early today." Selphie glanced at Quistis' clock.

"Well whaddya know? Oh well. Anyway we're all going out tonight, and you're coming, whether you like it or not." Irvine, who had snaked an arm around Selphie's waist, nodded vehemently. Zell, having the attention span of a sardine, was already bouncing on his feet, punching an imaginary opponent on the other side of the room.

"Well, ok, I guess I can spare a few hours. I really have to finish this research paper on Shumi techno-"

"Geez, Quistis, live a little!" Irvine complained. "You're going to come with us tonight, and you're going to have a good time. No ifs, ands, or buts."

"…Fine, you win," Selphie and Rinoa cheered like some sort of ant chorus. She shook her head and hoped to Hyne this wasn't going to be a shopping trip. She glanced at the clock - 5:00PM…if they were gone only 5 hours, she could still finish that paper and manage a few hours of sleep. "So where's Mr. Whatever?" Rinoa giggled.

"Oh, he's busy as usual. Ever since he became the Commander of Garden, he's had no life whatsoever. I'm trying to convince him to take a vacation for once in his life."

"Like he had a life before?" Zell paused his air-punching long enough to get a word in. "Anyway, let's get going. I found this fantastic restaurant in Balamb. It's called 'Big Al's' and apparently they have these chicken wings so spicy that they call them 'Suicide Wings'! Sounds great, huh?"

"Sounds…charming." Quistis groaned and got out of her seat. "I just hope they have something on their menu that isn't slathered in grease or barbeque sauce."

"Somehow, I seriously doubt that." Irvine said in a low voice beside her as they walked down the hall, almost drowned out by Zell's graphic description of how the so-called "Suicide Wings" made him bleed from the ears the last time he ate them.

As the large Garden car pulled out of the parking lot, she couldn't help wondering what it would be like if Seifer was one of 'the gang' again. Would things be better? Worse? Different, of course. But right about now, she would give anything she had to have him here with her tonight. Wait, what was she thinking! She was Quistis Trepe, the Ice Queen. She couldn't think that way about a man she once despised, a man that tried to kill her and her friends! But it was Seifer…she didn't care, he was still her friend. He was still her knight, even if they were only the rulers of a sandcastle, left victim to the tide.

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The wind whistled through his hair as he hung off a boxcar. Too poor to buy a ticket, he opted for the next best option. The large bars on the side were perfect for holding onto, as long as you had endurance and strong arms. You'd be fine unless the train happened to go through any tunnels…fortunately, the train trip to Balamb Garden had none. He held the bar with his left hand, leaning off to the side with Hyperion swinging in his right hand, feeling free at last. The sun had set, its last rays glinting off the sword blade in a final show of its beauty.

…I'm coming home Quistis…

Rubbing his bruises from the painful jump off the train, Seifer scrambled to his feet and looked around. Good, nobody had seen him. Now, time to act nonchalant. Seifer, aside from Hyperion, which was a dead giveaway, was not so recognizable as he was before. The scar adorning his face was gone, his hair was longer and slightly spikier, and his once passionate green eyes had lost their luster. The gray trench coat and choker were long gone, he wore a plain black jacket and a Fire Cross pendant instead. Somehow, he managed to get in the front door and well into the Garden without someone yelling, "HEY, there's Seifer Almasy, the guy who killed hundreds of people let's KILL him!" somwhat of a miracle in itself. Breathing a sigh of relief, he wracked his mind trying to remember where Quistis's dorm was, hoping to Hyne that she hadn't changed it in the past 2 years.

She hadn't. Room 1719, Q. Trepe, Instructor, blared the sign on the door. A small grin played on his lips - she must hate that sign with a passion. Quistis never was one for drawing attention to herself. Clearing his throat, he knocked on the door. A second after his third knock, he realized he had no idea what he was going to say. Somehow, "Yeah…so I guess I'm not dead then huh?" or "So, yeah Quis, I've been in hiding for the past 2 years because thousands of people want me dead, mind if I come in for a cup of coffee?" didn't seem like the most appropriate greetings.

There was still no answer. He rapped on the door a few more times. "Quistis?

Instructor Trepe? You there?" there was no answer. Great, what was he supposed to do, just WAIT here until she got back to her dorm, or worse, be discovered? Hyperion wasn't really hiding all that well. He knocked one more time for good measure, and to his surprise, the door opened. Glancing around, and seeing the coast was clear, he stepped inside.

The room was basically neat. It looked like she had some sort of accident this morning, a tipped bottle of contact lens cleaner was spilled, staining a large chunk of the carpeted floor. Everything besides that was so utterly Quistis. A laptop, poised between large, organized folders and stacks of papers. Books lined the shelves, and large bookcase beside her desk held the overflow. He ran a finger along some of the spines, reading the titles. "…Blue Magic: Legends through Time…Biology of Trabian Ecosystems…more boring crap…Fastitocalon Salads made Easy?" Seifer couldn't hold back a laugh as he put the book back in its spot. Running a thumb along the top of the bookcase, he noticed a heavy layer of dust on it, and pretty much everything in the room. Knowing Quistis, she was probably working late nights and never had time to really clean up – she could make the room look presentable, at least, but it needed a deep cleaning.

Seifer figured he owed her. Cracking his knuckles, and swearing to himself that there was no way in hell he would ever do this again, he searched her kitchen for some paper towels and cleaner. Keeping an eye and an ear on the door, and making sure the window was open for quick escape, he squirted the cleaner on the windows, desk, bookcase and dresser, wiping at least a month's worth of dust away. Once finished, he organized the papers on her desk, arranged the stuff on her dresser…his hands lingered on the bottle of perfume. He smelled it cautiously. It was the same scent that he had always remembered, it was Quistis. Not childhood Quisty, but older and wiser Quistis.

He quickly put the rest of it away, and now faced the stain on the rug. He had read somewhere that soda water got stains out of carpet, so it was worth a shot. He returned to the kitchen and searched the fridge, helping himself to one of the cans of Coke that resided there. He found a small bottle of soda water, pulled it out, and closed the door. As he walked through the kitchen, an idea popped in to his head: surely Quistis would like some coffee when she got home. He took 5 minutes to try and figure out the machine, but finding the coffee took no effort – Quistis had at least 3 cans of the stuff in her cupboards.

He had managed to remove the stain, by some miracle, and was watching it dry. He was sitting at her desk, holding a pen in one hand and the Coke in the other, trying to leave her a note, but trying not to sound too stupid or obvious. It was a challenge indeed, but then again, he was Seifer Almasy, and everyone knows that Seifer Almasy never backs down from a challenge. Drinking the last bit of cola, inspiration hit him, he stared furiously scribbling, not noticing or caring that his handwriting was absolutely horrendous compared to Quistis'. Sitting back, he hoped she could read it. Oh well, it was worth a shot. But how to sign it? Should he blatantly obvious and put Seifer? Or be more mysterious and put "S"…or maybe a sketch of the Fire Cross?

He never got the chance. Voices were outside the door, and he decided not to risk it. Grabbing Hyperion and his coat, he dashed towards the open window and leaped out it without a second thought. He'd be staying in the Training Center tonight…he would reveal himself when the time was right.

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Quistis was exhausted and extremely cranky, although her polished icy exterior showed none of it. Selphie and Rinoa had indeed dragged her out on a shopping trip, forcing her to try on clothes that she never would have looked twice at, and for good reason. The shoe shopping had not gone much better, the fun factor equivalent being eating a bucketful of nails. Speaking of nails, the heels on the shoes they bought for her could easily impale something or someone. Oh well, she thought, maybe they could be used as a backup weapon.

To her shock, her door was open and slightly ajar. Alarmed, she drew Save the Queen out of her purse and entered stealthily, taking small, quick and deadly silent steps into her dorm, ready to lash anything that moved to a quick demise. The lights were off, but enough light was filtering in though the open window to outline the objects in the room with a pale wash of shadows. Sensing that her dormitory was clear of any thieves and robbers, she took a look around the room to see what had been stolen.

She blinked. Not a thing was out of place, everything was so neatly organized she couldn't have done better herself. Hyne, even her file folders were arranged alphebetically! The stain that once threatened to consume the carpet was gone, and the thick layer of dust that once adorned each piece of furniture was nowhere to be seen.

Checking the kitchen, she found her dishwasher emptied, the refridgerator sifted through and the food inside arranged efficiently and compactly. The yogurt, expired two weeks ago, that she had been meaning to get rid of, was pitched.

As if on cue, her coffeemaker 'dinged', playing both the roles of a wake-up call and a Hyne-sent miracle. She tuned slowly towards it, not really sure whether to believe this whole thing was real or not yet. Sure enough, a freshly brewed pot of coffee was waiting in front of her, practically screaming "Drink Me!" like the bottle of milk did to Alice. She didn't even need a second thought.

Sitting in her desk chair, sipping the coffee from her favorite mug, Quistis ran the events of the day through her mind, the day being average enough…except for the fact that instead of getting theives in her dorm while she was away, she got a maid/neat freak/absolute genius. Maybe Lady Luck had finally decided to pay her a visit for once in Quistis' lifetime.

A piece of paper caught her eye. A message from her mysterious housecleaner? The writing scrawled across the page was messy, smudged in some places, and almost illegible in some parts. To her, the writing looked almost familiar, but she erased the thought, when she considered how many students she had taught and how she couldn't possibly remember a single student's handwriting. Her tired eyes scanned the paper.

_The joy so short alas, the pain so near,  
The way so long, the departure so smart,  
The first sight alas I bought too dear,  
That so suddenly now from hence must part.  
The body gone, yet remain shall the heart  
With her, that which for me salt tears did rain,  
And shall not change till that we meet again. _

"…Thomas Wyatt, 6th sonnet…first stanza…" she mumbled quietly. She unconsiously started to recite the following lines to herself.

"The time doth pass, yet shall not my love;  
Though I be far, always my heart is near;  
Though other change, yet will I not remove;  
Though other care not, yet love I will and fear;  
Though other hate, yet will I love my dear;  
Though other will of lightness say adieu  
Yet will I be found steadfast and true…"

She couldn't find a signature. All that was left for a name was an ink splotch, as if someone had been thinking to long with the pen pressed down on the paper. Quistis shook her head, it was all too much to take. She still had to finish that research paper on Shumi technology and the night was drawing to a close already. Looks like there wouldn't be any sleep tonight for her. Facing her laptop, she prepared to begin typing away at the keys when her fingers tapped paper instead. Staring at the keyboard, she saw her paper completed, neatly printed out and ready to go.

Tonight would never cease to amaze her.

**Cheesy and Pathetic Trailer**: _Will's Seifer's choice to come home be the best or worst decision he's ever made?_

Hmm anyway, if even one person reviews, I guess I'll continue it. Hint hint. Oh by the way, I don't intend to stuff the following chapters with old poetry unless requested. Which I hope it isn't – takes me long enough to understand them myself…

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	2. Chapter Two

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Two**_

Being slapped awake by a Grat did not rank highly on Seifer's "fun-things-to-do" list.

I suppose that's what I deserve for sleeping in the freakin Training Centre, he thought. Could be worse, better than being dismembered by a T-Rexaur before breakfast. At the thought of breakfast, he wondered just how exactly he was going to get around the Garden. The fact that he wasn't a student severely limited his options…Of course, he could hide in the TC and everything would be fine and dandy, but there was those things like eating and washing that just had to get in the way.

He wondered how Quistis had reacted to her clean room and coffee. It was quite possibly the nicest gesture he had ever done…since...ever. Oh well, she deserved the break. Quistis was a literal machine when it came to school and studies, he could easily guess she had no time to clean, or have any time for herself. Shaking his head, he got up and brushed the Grat slime off his jacket. Great, he thought, this is my only jacket and now it's a lovely shade of puke green.

His thoughts switched from appearance to hunger as his stomach growled in protest.

"Hyne, shut up. I'll feed you eventually." Picking up Hyperion, he stalked out of the Training Centre, mercilessly slaying any poor Grats that happened to get in his way. But before he had even gotten past the pond area, one managed to get him with a blast of Sleeping Gas.

A Grat slapped Seifer awake 25 minutes later.

"Shit!" It was sad how his situation could be summed up in a single word.

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The concealer wasn't needed today. Quistis, for once this year, had gotten a full 8 hours of sleep, thanks to her mysterious room-cleaner Romeo. It was almost too good to be true, but when she cracked her eyes open, being temporarily blinded by the sun pouring into the room, the spotless dorm told her otherwise. What a wonderful morning.

Stretching, she threw back the covers and made a beeline for the kitchen. Sleep or no sleep, she still needed her coffee to get her through a day. While she was searching for a mug in the cupboards, she noticed a note taped to the side of the machine that she had failed to see last night. Curiosity piqued, she put down the selected mug and picked the note off the coffee maker. In the same scrawly handwriting as the poem, it read:

_Y'know, you really should cut back on this stuff._

She raised an eyebrow. So the maid of mystery was also a health nut? This was getting weird, but hey, there was nothing bad about it. With a small grin of satisfaction, she rebelled against the note, pouring herself a large mug of coffee.

"Mmm-mmm-good." She said aloud, mocking the person as if they were in the kitchen right in front of her. She laughed a little at her actions, this couldn't be her. Of course, this could be fully-awake Quistis, not half asleep and caffeine-drugged Quistis for once. She smiled as she heard her alarm clock go off, and went to shut it off, happy in knowing for the first time in a long time, she had actually beaten it to 6:00.

With Save the Queen on her belt and a rare smile on her face, Quistis headed towards the cafeteria to meet up with everyone else. As she walked through the halls, she thought the halls looked brighter, and the even the few students roaming the halls looked friendlier. It was just amazing how one good night's sleep could change your perception in the wee hours of the day

"Yo, Quistis! Over here!" A black glove waved at her from a distant table in the cafeteria. It didn't take much to find the gang's table, considering it was 6:30 in the morning and most of the student body didn't get up for at least another hour. Zell, Rinoa and Irvine were seated at a far table, and she could see from here that Zell was already scarfing down hot dogs like a starved animal. It made Quistis queasy just knowing what they put in hot dogs, and the thought of eating them for breakfast made her stomach turn in protest.

"Hey guys. Where's Selphie? And Squall, although I probably don't even need to ask that." She watched as Zell ate half of a hot dog in one bite, ketchup spewing onto the plate. She hastily turned away, focusing intently on Irvine's hat.

"Selphie's in line, getting food, and I'm right here." Behind her, she was answered by a voice as cool as glass. Turning, she came face to face with Squall, his expression as emotionless as a blank canvas. He was carrying a tray with precision balance, on it were 5 cups of steaming liquid, and a bottle of juice or something. "Okay, so a medium black coffee for Irvine…Hot chocolate for Selphie, French Vanilla Cappuccino for Rinoa…" he passed out three of the drinks, putting Selphie's in front of her spot at the table (staked out with various cosmetics) and giving Rinoa a soft kiss before he placed hers down on the table.

She watched the short scene with a trace of wistfulness. She had given up on Squall long ago, and was truly happy for the two…but the thing that hurt her the most was the 'togetherness' of it. How nice it must be to have someone that you can just turn to anytime, that will hold you, and kiss you…and look into your eyes, telling you how beautiful you are…

"Quis, here's your double double." The daydream was assimilated, as Squall passed her the cup with an expression that usually accompanied 3-hour poetry readings. She accepted it gratefully, sitting down next to Zell but trying her hardest not to look at his plate. "Oh yeah Zell, here's your drink…" Squall took the bottle off the tray and slid it down the table surface. As it passed Quistis, she caught a glimpse of the label: PropagatorAde. The name was well suited to the day-glo hue of green liquid – if the name had anything to do with the monster, she assumed it also came in stunning shades of purple, red and yellow.

It was almost silent, Zell's chewing and the occasional sip from someone else interrupting the early morning serenity for brief moments. Quistis gazed around the cafeteria, settling her eyes on a nearby open window. Another early bird was out taking a walk and she followed him with her eyes. He was carrying either a cane or a sword, but he was too far away and she couldn't quite make it out. It had to be a cane, she thought, you're not allowed to have weapons outside except on missions. Attention drifting to the sky, she could barely see the sun through a veil of clouds - she could tell already that the sky wanted to rain. Pfft, she thought, not even that can ruin my good –

"You're in a good mood today, Quistis." Irvine commented. "What's up?" He put down his coffee, absently stirring it with a spoon. Selphie was playing with his ponytail beside him, but Quistis couldn't tell by Irvine's poker face whether he enjoyed it or not. She guessed he did.

"Ahh…it's nothing. I just got more sleep than usual I guess." She shrugged and drank the rest of her coffee, avoiding his, and anyone else's, eyes. The last thing she wanted to tell them was that someone had snuck into her room last night and cleaned it – they would get all the wrong ideas. Then the Trepies would catch wind of it, pounce on the rumors and they would spread faster than the plague. She ended the issue by turning to watch the trickle of students entering the cafeteria for breakfast, some yawning, stretching, some flopping down at tables, all evident that they didn't want to be up this early. "So what's on the agenda for today?"

"Well, Zell and I have a small mission out in the Grandidi forest. Actually, it's a pain in the ass," Irvine stated. "…We have to get Malboro tentacles…" he paused as the whole table grimaced, then looked at him and Zell with pity. "So we can refine them to make Moon Curtains, and teach GF's Auto-Shell, yada yada yada…"

"Yeah, I'm not looking forward to that very much." Zell had finished off his hotdogs and was sitting back, digesting. "I'll take Doomtrain, you can take Cerberus. We'll need all the status defenses we can get, ok Irv?" Irvine nodded. Zell followed up with a loud belch.

"Zell, that's disgusting." Squall commented. Rinoa and Quistis nodded in agreement. Selphie giggled, mumbling something that sounded like "Piggy."

"Heh, remember the first time we ran into a Malboro, Quistis?" Rinoa asked, halfway down the table. "You needed some tentacles for Save the Queen. What a hassle that was." Oh, Quistis remembered it all right. Being put to sleep, poisoned, going berserk and confused was not exactly a party. Ranked right up there with hangovers and stalkers. They eventually had to resort to the ol' Mug-and-Run tactic.

"Oh yes. I'm just glad I never have to fight another one unless necessary. Zell and Irvine, you have my sympathy." She peered into the bottom of her cup, now empty. "Anyway, I have to get to my classroom and prepare for today's fascinating lecture on GF ability items. If you guys have any plans for tonight, just drop by after classes, ok?" she put a slight emphasis on "after" and directed it towards Selphie.

Selphie was oblivious, as usual. "Awesome! How does another shopping trip sound?" Rinoa perked up at the words.

Normally, Quistis would have responded with a comment like "I would rather play with an electric fence" but resisted the urge and smiled slightly instead. "Sure, whatever you want." She laughed inwardly at the look of utter shock on everyone's faces. What a Kodak moment. She turned her back to them, and walked away, before collapsing in the hallway, tears of laughter running down her face.

It was at least a minute before anyone at the table unfroze their faces to speak again. In unison, they all stared at each other, each asking the same question. Zell voiced it aloud.

"The hell is up with her? That couldn't have been the Quistis I know!" Squall nodded thoughtfully in agreement. Rinoa and Selphie, however, were on a different train of thought.

"I bet she's in love!"

"Who's the guy? Do you know anything? Oooh this is so exciting!"

Irvine, Squall and Zell looked at each other helplessly, trying their best to stay sane in such a position as this. The girls were having a giggling fit, trying to guess who Quistis' 'mystery lover' was, if she had one. Irvine coughed, trying to think of a way to regain their manliness.

"So yeah, I was thinking about buying a new car…"

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He checked his watch. He knew, from old times sake, that her classes started promptly at 8:00. You could be 20 minutes late, a minute late, or even a step from the door – but if you were late, you were late – and you wouldn't get into her classroom without an extremely good excuse. A good excuse was either a) a note from a teacher or administrator, or b) a limb or two was falling off. Seifer missed a lot of class time this way, she caught all of his forged notes every time. She was one talented woman. Almost too talented...

He had picked a good time to go visit her room. It was 7:45 when he went outside for a short walk, but he came inside early at the first sight of rain – the last thing he needed was his only set of clothes getting soaked, because then he would have to spend another hour in that hateful Training Centre drying off. He noted with satisfaction that there were very few students roaming the halls, and all that remained were a few SeeDs and the odd teachers. Trying not to draw attention to himself, he headed to the dorms, acting as if he was a student and he did this sort of thing everyday. Hyperion was hidden under his coat, slung over his back as he walked, acting completely casual. He had to admit, he was getting pretty good at the nonchalant act.

"Ah, here we are. Q.Trepe." he doubted the door would be open again, but jiggled the handle out of his own curiosity. To his shock, it opened once more. Grinning, he pocketed his lock picking tools, thankful he didn't have to use them. He knew that just by looking at the lock, Quistis could tell if it had been picked, and even the tool used to pick it. She was scary like that sometimes.

He closed the door, and leaned back against it. The room was just as he left it, except he noticed her peach suit draped over a chair. For reasons, unknown to him, he picked them up and held them close to his body. They smelled of violets and cool summer nights...exactly the way he remembered. This is probably the closest you'll ever get to her, he thought scornfully. He put it back on the chair, checking his watch as he did so. 8:20…he still had over an hour and half left.

He fell back onto her bed, bouncing once but landing softly. Turning over on his side, he wondered what it would be like if she were in here with him, and he was holding her. If he could whisper things in her ear, and she would giggle, and bring her lips forward for a kiss…He shook his head. He wasn't worth even a shred of her love. She was Quistis Trepe, for Hyne's sake. Instead of further chastising himself, he allowed his mind to drift off to more childhood memories.

She was picking flowers – violets. And he was laughing at her, asking her to come play tag instead. She stuck out her tongue at him, and threw a fistful of grass in his face. He remembered tackling her into the grass, not hard enough to hurt her, just enough to knock her down. They started rolling, and there was a hill nearby, so they ended up rolling down that hill, grass and flowers flying this way and that. They landed in a patch of long grass, and he had made sure that he was on the bottom so she wouldn't get hurt. They had separated, laughing, but Quistis' laughter quickly turned to sobs. Her violets, which she had not let go of, were crushed into a withered stem and a few petals.

The tears in her eyes had been too much for little Seifer. Telling her to stay where she was, he ran up the hill until he found a patch of violets. He could hear Zell jeering at him from the distant beach, but he ignored it and picked a few of the purple flowers. He had run back down the hill, tripping once and landing on his face, but still managing to keep the flowers intact, a determined expression plastered on his face. His thoughts played back like a movie, as his younger self gave her the flowers, telling her not to cry, because he was there and he didn't like to see her sad. She had smiled at him…and kissed him on the cheek.

Seifer touched his cheek in some sort of idiotic gesture, almost as if he could feel her soft lips there again. Hyne dammit, this couldn't be Seifer Almasy! I'm supposed to be tough, a fighter, not hung up on childhood memories and women I could never have even if I wanted to! Hyne…If having feelings for Quistis Trepe makes me weak, then I guess I'll just have to accept it. Even so, she probably despises me. She probably doesn't remember any of those childhood days, all the time we spent together, courtesy of those damn GF's. All she remembers is the days in the war, where I slaughtered soldiers, killed innocent people and my life wasn't in my control.

"HYNE! Why does it have to be this way?" he pounded the wall next to him, wincing as he saw the crack it left. Lovely. First he scours her house clean, the next day he's putting his fist through the walls. He was a freakin' walking contradiction. In desperation, he grabbed a pillow from the end of her bed and attempted to position it over the crack. No luck.

"Um…ok, don't panic here…" This was pathetic, he had looked death in the eye hundreds of times, looked down a blade, looked down the barrel of a gun, looked a sorceress in the eye and sneered….and here he was, freaking out over a hole.

"Maybe she won't notice it. Yeah, that's it." He attempted to reassure himself by piling the rest of the pillows over the hole. Mission complete, altough done hella badly.

"Now…time to do what I really came here for." He opened his jacket, putting Hyperion to the side and withdrawing a single wild violet from the sleeve. He had picked it up on his morning walk outside, never knowing that they grew wild outside the Fire Cavern – he was thankful, though, it saved him a trip back to Balamb and its streets that he once resided in. Shoving the thoughts aside, he searched her dorm for a vase (or something remotely close to one), finally settling on one of Quistis' many, many coffee mugs. He filled it with water, and placed the violet in the mug, finally placing the whole thing on her desk, next to the ever-present laptop. He scanned the desk for more paper and a pen, while thinking what kind of note to leave this time

He bent over the paper, brow furrowing in thought as ideas came and went. I guess I should leave a hint as to who I am, he thought. Then again, there was that whole deal with the hole in the wall, maybe it would be safer to remain anonymous. I'd like to live a little longer if possible…Finally, he settled on one idea that had been playing in his mind the last few minutes. Glancing at his watch - 9:56, Hyne, just 4 minutes left! – he furiously scribbled a quick note down, placed it beside the violet, grabbed his coat and Hyperion and got the hell out of there.

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"Okay, okay Selphie. We'll go to the mall. Just let me get changed, ok?" Quistis, having let down her guard that morning, was no match for Selphie and her enthusiasm. The conversation after classes had been mainly one-sided, she was sure that she had only gotten about 3 words in the whole thing – respectively 'what', 'why' and 'but'. The rest was drowned out, and now she found herself about to go on a shopping spree with Selphie and Rinoa, along with going to the spa. To top off the torture, she was also being dragged into 'getting her hair done', which to Quistis brought forth memories of curling and flatiron burns.

Once entering her dorm, she noticed two differences. One, there was a bunch of pillows stacked up against the wall, for some reason, and the other was a…

"A violet?" she approached it carefully, eying it warily, not sure if she was imagining the flower or not. Reaching out cautious fingers, she stroked the petals, soft as silk. How did he know…that my favorite flowers were violets? I thought I never told anyone that… Her GF-strained memory fluttered, as she tried to recall who might have known such a thing – although there was the chance that it was a total fluke and they had guessed.

_Don't cry, I'm here…and I don't like to see you sad… _

The memory was fleeting, and Quistis barely had time to acknowledge the words in her mind. They seemed so familiar, but she couldn't quite place who had said them or when…

"Hey, Quistis, what's taking you so long?" Selphie's voice snapped her out of her daydream. Replacing the violet in its impromptu vase, she picked up the slip of paper and read it slowly and carefully.

_When I look to the sky_

_Something tells me you're here with me_

_And you make everything alright_

_When I feel like I'm lost_

_Something tells me you're here with me_

_And I can always find my way when you are here… _

Quistis was silent, as she read the words over and over again. There were pictures in her head, but they were all blurred, she couldn't make them out and it frustrated her beyond belief. She sat down, still holding the paper, the words boring themselves into her mind.

"QUISTIS!" Selphie yelled, obviously miffed. "What's taking so long?"

"I'll be there in a minute, just hold on!" she shouted back. Putting down the paper, determined not to let her mind dwell on it for another minute. She quickly changed into a comfortable dark red t-shirt and dark blue jeans. She wasn't usually an accessory person, but put her favorite silver chain and bracelet on. "One more thing before I go, can you wait just one more minute Sel?"

"I suppose, hurry it up though, we're keeping Rinoa waiting!" Quistis walked over to her bed, and investigated the whole pillow issue. Selphie looked in the doorway out of curiosity when she heard Quistis erupt in an anguished cry.

"WHO DID THIS TO MY WALL!"

"..." Selphie stared at the hole. Then, in less thanthree seconds, she had recovered (after all, wasn't _her _wall) and was looking at Quistis' outfit. "Oh no, that'll never do. Let me and Rinoa get you something _suitable_."

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So yeah, Chapter 2 up. Not my best writing, but I'm a bit stressed out with exams and stuff, so I might edit it up a bit later. Anyway, I send my regards and thanks out to _Jean-Chan, Matron Raenee, Lain of the Weird, Angel-Kinneas4 _and_ Yuyami no Okami._

Being an artist on the side, I might decide to illustrate this story in the near future feel free to support this motion, as my current work ethic is opposed to it.

Oh, yes, one more thing. The "Double Double" that Quistis ordered is sort of a Canadian term. It's a Tim Horton's order for coffee with two cream and two sugar. There's a useless fact of the day, woo.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	3. Chapter Three

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Three**_

"So let me get this straight. Some mysterious person, we'll assume it's a guy, is leaving you little notes…while cleaning up and destroying your room at the same time?" Selphie, her voice hinting that she was beyond confused, filed her nails in the passenger seat of the grungy Balamb Garden car. Her feet were stretched out to rest on the dashboard, occasionally batting against the fuzzy dice that hung from the rearview mirror.

"Yeah, that pretty much explains it…" Quistis ran a hand through her hair, which she had decided to leave out for once. Not that it will ever happen again, she thought, it's only because my last hair clip broke and I'm out of hair elastics. "I don't get it, how did he know my favorite flowers were violets?" She leaned back against the car seat, deep in thought – not quite worrying, but her mind was full of incomplete memories whirling inside her head like a child's top. Little things would come and go, memories would come back, make sense to her, and fly away as soon as they had came, leaving her more confused than she was before.

"Lucky guess? Or maybe that's all they could afford," Rinoa supported from the driver's seat. "Violets are cheaper than roses." That's a lot coming from someone who's never had any financial problems, Quistis thought wryly. She fiddled with her hair, not used to it draping over her shoulders. Next thing you know, I'll be wearing it like this everyday. The way things are going, I'll never be the same old Quistis again.

"Violets grow wild around the Fire Cavern. Maybe they got them there, which means they're from Garden!" Selphie exclaimed with a terrific display of insight. "If they're from Garden, surely we could track them down!" Quistis sighed as the insightfulness vanished.

"Listen to yourself, Selphie. We don't know anything about this guy, and you expect to pick him out of hundreds of students?" She stared down at her shoes, a particularly ghastly pair of Rinoa's choice. The magazine-worthy outfit also included a tight white t-shirt and a short denim skirt. Quistis' protests had been no match for a double-team of fashion concious women, and she had eventually succumbed to their demands. As Selphie had so nicely put it, "Get your ass out of eternal teacher mode and get girly for once in your life!"

Luckily, they didn't make her shed her most important accessory, her trusty whip double functioning as a belt and weapon. Rinoa said that chain belts were in fashion this year, and it helped her show off her curves. Whoop-dee-do, she thought. It won't really take away from the fact that I look like a slut with the IQ of a telephone pole. Look what this mystery man had done to her…she hadn't even seen his face yet, and he had lowered her frosted-steel façade to the point where feminity, and borderline whore, overruled professionalism. Her thoughts trailed off as the car screeched to a stop.

"Alright, we're here. And Quistis, this is not a mission – so you don't need to keep checking over your shoulder, and there are no spies in the mall. Don't deck any guys that hit on you. Selphie, try to refrain from leaping on guys and maxxing out the Festival Committee credit card. Ok? Ok. Let's roll." In a flourish, they exited the car with as much poise and grace as you could manage getting out of a beat up, Galbadian all-purpose utility vehicle.

Like Cid's Angels, Quistis thought, imagining how they looked…Rinoa looking like she just marched off the cover of a magazine, sunglasses hanging off her plunging neckline, Selphie, a coiled spring of energy that looked good in just about any outfit (but had selected a khaki miniskirt and light green tank top in place of her usual yellow minidress) and of course, herself, looking like anybody besides Quistis Trepe. Well…anyone female.

"So, where to first?" Selphie, already bubbling over with enthusiasm, was practically dragging Rinoa and Quistis to the doors. They just barely managed to regain their composure and avoid getting a faceful of revolving door. "Let's go to that great new store that just opened last week! I think it was called Siren's…so let's go, ok?" Rinoa had barely managed a nod, before Selphie had grabbed her wrist and was towing her through the mall. However, Rinoa's wirst was soon released, as Selphie was immediately distracted by the local pet store. "Look, aren't they CUTE!" she exclaimed, shoving a kitten in Quistis' face.

"Yes…cute." She felt strangely out of place, dressed like this in a place like this. Oh well, she might as well act the part, because she was sure looking it. "Yes, they're so fluffy-wuffy cute!" she gushed with a particularly ditzy accent. Rinoa and Selphie looked at her like she had grown a third head. Quistis coughed as her cheeks flooded with pink.

"Quis, you okay?" Rinoa peered over a nearby glass case. It was currently housing 3 puppies, practically bouncing off the glass walls for attention. Selphie stopped fawning over the kittens for a second to look at Quistis with concern.

"Yes, yes. I'm fine." Her voice returned to classic-stern-teacher mode, as she aimlessly stroked a puppy. It bit her finger. "Ow! You little devil, you." She scratched the puppy behind the ear. Its body wriggled in happiness and immediately rolled over, begging her to scratch his belly with little whimpers. Quistis didn't stand a chance.

"Heh, you put on a tough front, but I know you're just a big ol' softie inside…" she whispered to the puppy. He stared back, blinking, as if they could understand each other perfectly. She continued to pet him, listening to Selphie giggle at the kittens.

" – Look at this one, isn't this one the cutest thing? He's all brown, I'm going to call him Irvy. Hey, Irvy!"

_Tough front, big softie inside…I'm going to call you Seifer. _Quistis smiled a little. What would Seifer think of a little helpless puppy being named after him? Looking closely at "Seifer's" fur, she noticed it was a shade of yellow that was identical to childhood Seifer's sun-bleached hair. Young Seifer was exactly like this little dog, acting callous towards her, but all the while being a good friend. She chuckled to herself. She could have some fun with this. Oh no, Seifer made a mess on the carpet again…Roll over Seifer…beg, Seifer…

"I'm going to buy this puppy." It was spontaneous. Quistis was never spontaneous. Quistis was the type who would strategize, and look over 3 or 4 different options before choosing anything. But no, recent events had addled the logical, and her actions were suprising herself and anyone that knew her. Currently, Selphie and Rinoa's jaws were dangerously close to the ground. She waved to the man at the counter, who came over, dusting his hand off on his apron.

"What can I help you with, miss?"

"I'd like to buy this puppy. Is there any information you can give me on him?" the clerk went behind the counter, pulled out a small box of files, and sifted through them delicately. He kept flipping back to one, eventually coming back to that card. He pulled it out, reading it over carefully.

"Male, Neutered, all shots for this year, 2 months old. I can sell you him for a cheap price, he's not a purebred – actually he's a shelter dog – only one there, mind you. Are you sure you want this one? There's plenty of other fine purebreds here. Beagles, poodles, Dalmatians, German Shepard?" he looked at Selphie and Rinoa. "A Chihuahua, maybe?"

"No, I want this one," she said kindly but firmly. "A shelter dog just needs the love more." She patted "Seifer's" head again. She could've sworn she saw a hint of glee in the small animal's eyes, and she returned it. The storeclerk look dumbfounded.

"Alright, miss, it's your choice. Since it's had its shots, I can sell him to you for 100 gil. Is that okay?"

"That's perfect." After paying the clerk for "Seifer", a new collar, food and dishes, she went over to the case and plucked out Seifer. He nuzzled up to her, licking her chin. She giggled, another breakthrough the glacial façade. But this time it wasn't an act. Selphie and Rinoa followed her out of the store, in pure amazement.

"Ah, Quis, you know we're not allowed to have pets in the Garden."

"I'll work around it. After all, Rin, you have Angelo."

"So whatcha gonna name him?" Selphie has recovered from the initial shock and was already getting pumped up at the prospect of having a new canine playmate. Rinoa, having her own companion, seemed to have no problem with Quistis' new friend.

"…Seify." She replied. Rinoa raised her eyebrows over her sunglasses at Quistis choice. Selphie, having no sunglasses to peer over, looked equally suspicious.

"As in Seifer?" Rinoa inquired. Quistis hoped that neither of them suspected her feelings for Seifer. Wait, she corrected herself, I have no feelings for him to deny. They couldn't suspect anything, she had been especially careful not to let anything slip out by accident. No one would hear of her daydreams and fantasies, no one but her.

"No, as in Seify." She continued to pet the little furry bundle. "There's a big difference." She continued to walk towards the car, Seify peering over her shoulder and yawning at Rin and Selphie.

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"Where you off to, kid?"

"Balamb. And don't call me kid."

"Geez, okay, okay." Seifer was attempting to hitchhike to Balamb, and apparently if he didn't have money, he was going to need an attitude change to get anywhere. He lounged back in the musty-smelling seat of the rusted out sedan, carefully placing Hyperion in the seat beside him. Watching the air freshener swing wildly on the rearview mirror as the ancient car bumped along the pothole-studded roads, he noticed it was of the "new-car" scented variety. It's ironic, he thought. Why do people even try and kid themselves...

"So, that's a pretty fancy sword. You must be rich, why're you hitchhiking out to Balamb?"

"I'm not rich. Take one look at my clothes and you'd know that. That gunblade is the only thing that I own that's worth anything." Seifer spoke through gritted teeth. Realizing that he did NOT want to walk the rest of the way to Balamb, he coughed and sat quietly.

"So, you got a girlfriend?" Seifer stiffened. Why on earth was this complete stranger asking him questions like this? He decided it was in his best interests to answer. Besides, he could kill this guy three times over before he hit the ground. What the hell, why not.

"No. Well, there is this one girl. She's a…good friend. No, more like a childhood friend. Whatever. She doesn't like me anyway. I came back here just to see her again, it's been a few years."

"Hmm, seems like you like her. I'll tell you one thing. Don't let any chances slip through your fingers. Ask yourself this: what's better…taking a chance and knowing the truth, or living your life in a lie and regretting a missed opportunity? Seriously, tell her how you feel. 'Cause you might never get the chance again. I learned that the hard way." The driver turned around to look at him. Behind the coarsely stubbled face, tobacco-stained teeth and greasy hair begging to be washed, Seifer saw a certain wisdom and sageness, that he knew most people wouldn't care to notice. "Ah, here we are. Balamb. Now remember what I said. And take care of yourself, kid."

Seifer didn't have the heart to snap back with a "don't call me kid" remark. Instead, he just smiled and nodded slightly. He shouldered Hyperion, letting its familiar weight bounce off his shoulder. Looking back at the driver, he did something that he never would have considered a year ago.

"Thanks." The driver nodded back, closed the door and started up the car again. Seifer watched him pull away, thinking over his words while the rusty old vehicle faded off into the horizon. "I will take a chance. No regrets, huh?" he said softly, to no one in particular, mainly trying to reassure himself.

"Great. Now where the hell am I going to find Quistis?" He had heard her reaction to the wall incident (he had hid behind a group of potted palms down the hall, but then again, anyone in a two-mile radius could have heard her) and her plans to go to Balamb. Stupidly, without even thinking, he had immeditely heading towards the town. And now here he was, having no clue where she was and stuck fighting with his own mind, only knowing that he had to find Quistis, and nothing else mattered.

What was he thinking! Had he changed so much that he had to follow Quistis around everywhere she went? Was he…jealous? Was he being overprotective…? Seifer considered his current situation. He imagined some imbecile with his hands all over Quistis' body…NO!

"I can't let that happen. Quistis deserves only the best, even if it isn't me!". Thinking carefully, he decided from now on, he would swear to protect her. "Pssh yeah, as if she needs protecting. She could take you on anytime, and he knew that she wouldn't take shit from any asshole." He remembered back in the old Garden days, when one poor soul had tried to hit on her. He hadn't been there, but he had heard off the grapevine that she nearly put his face through a door.

Even if she didn't need protecting, it would be enough for him if he could at least see her again. All he could hope for, was if he did meet her face to face here in Balamb, she would spare him his dignity and bitch him out and/or kick his ass back at Garden.

You know you wouldn't fight back either, his inner voice commented.

Damn straight, he thought back. I'd even go as far as to say I deserve an ass kicking.

Seifer headed out towards the Balamb mall, a shadow of an old smirk playing on his face.

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Edited this chapter, needed a bit of tense fixing. Thanks for the reviews guys, you all rock.

Exams at school were a bitch, I had no time at all. Of course, in a stroke of poetic justice, as soon as school's out, work begins. I miss the old days when work seemed so far into the future and wasn't something to worry about – the only thing you had to worry about were hornets and jellyfish.

Here's to a better work ethic. I'll try and speed up my chapter production, keep it around 2000 - 2500 words each. If I get enough time and inspiration, I'll edit some old stuff and start some new stuff. Enjoy your summer guys and gals, use sunscreen, because sunburns suck.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	4. Chapter Four

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Four**_

"No I do not want a fucking croissant! All I want is a glass of water! Is that too much to ask?"

"As you wish, sir." The waiter, obviously pissed off, stalked away from the café talble, muttering obcenities under his breath. He returned a few minutes later with a glass of water, and slammed it down on the table in front of Seifer. "There you go, enjoy."

"So what happened to service with a smile?" Seifer sneered. The waiter forced a tight grin, then truned around and walked away. Seifer chuckled, it amazed him how much of an asshole he could be sometimes. Stretching the kinks out of his back, he sat back in the patio chair, enjoying the nicer side of Balamb - the side he never really experienced before.He was about to go hunt for Quistis, but decided to take a break at a small harbourside café (La Côté de la Mer) to let himself think things through. It was a nice place really, with classic green-and-white patio umbrellas, tasteful plants placed here and there, and the tables adorned with various items in an attempt to create a French atmosphere. Seifer looked at the (empty) wine bottle and the baguette in front of him. He sighed and started to slice the bread. At least it's free, he though, I might as well take what I can get. The bread was suprisingly good for something that, when uncut, could double for a baseball bat.

Seifer barely agknowledged someone sit across from him. He wasn't really paying attention, but he could see the man was around his age. Finishing off a third slice of baguette, he chugged the rest of the water and put the glass down. "Can I help you?" His voice was somewhere inbetween irritated and curious. The stranger (who had 'player' written all over his face, Seifer noted) peered over the table at him.

"Have I seen you somewhere before? You look really familiar." Seifer stiffened. Was he still that obvious after a year or so of hiding? His mind raced to come up with a good excuse. Well, when you're running from the world, that isn't too hard to do. You get pretty good at it.

"My brother was a pretty famous Galbadian general. People always get us mixed up…I'm pretty tired of being recognized, only to be recognized as my older brother. It's a pain." To his surprise, the stranger believed every word. He smiled slightly, a silent form of victory. That was almost too easy he thought, now I just have to keep it up.

"Yeah, I hear ya man. My brother's always been getting way more attention than me. I mean, he's always been my parent's favorite kid. It started way back…"

Seifer was forced to listen to the stranger's complete life story before he could even get a word in. Well, at least he was out of the danger zone, so he decided to play along for the time being. "I know! Isn't it frustrating? Well, I hope things go a little better for you." He chose his words carefully so the man wouldn't launch into another 5-minute spiel. He almost gagged when he realized what he had just said. I sound like a freakin' guidance counselor...what next?

"Hey thanks man. You're alright." Seiferrolled his eyes, but the stranger was turned to watch the street, no doubt checking out the nearby female population. He was also drumming his fingers on the tabletop. Seifer waited in growing irritation, until he was just about ready to hack them off with the bread knife. Suddenly, the guy emitted a low whistle(Seifer breathed a sigh of relief.) "Wow, they don't make them like that no more. Check out that chick. What a hottie!" Seifer followed his gaze, and almost choked on his fourth piece of bread.

It...couldn't be...no...It can't...be...her...

It was Quistis. Leaning up against a fence, shading her eyes from the sun, and looking like an angel straight from heaven. Although had he not known her for so long or so well, he never would have recognized her at all. Instead of the ponytail she always wore, it hung loose, flowing over her shoulders like a river of shimmering gold. Why didn't she wear it like that more often, he thought, it makes her look more beautiful than ever. Wait…then ever? I never thought she was beautiful, he argued with his conscience.

His eyes traveled down her body. The tight white shirt and short dark denim skirt made him feel a little warmer in ways he didn't quite expect. They clung to her curves perfectly, but she didn't look like a slut – she looked heavenly. His eyes rested on the profile of her face. The eyes, still cold and blue as usual, and the lack of a true smile on her full lips still evident. Her found himself secretly longing to take her into his arms, kiss her deeply, and maybe put a smile on her lips once again. He shook his head. What was he thinking? Looking at the guy opposite him, his intentions were definitely more honorable. The stranger was practically drooling.

"Damn, she's sexy. I'd sure like to get her in my bed. Look at that body! Mmm, bet she's pretty flexible…"

Seifer shot him a glare that would melt lead. Nobody degraded HIS Quistis like that. Whoah, back up, his mind ordered. Your Quistis? Since when did that happen? Never mind that, he replied to that annoying little voice. This guy is scum and I won't let him near Quistis…

While Seifer was arguing with his own mind, the stranger was already walking towards her. In alarm, Seifer shot out of his seat. Thinking twice, he asked a nearby customer if he could borrow their trucker hat for a minute. He shouldn't show his face just yet, and he knew that Quistis could identify him in a heartbeat.The man looked dubious for a moment, but eventually handed it over. Thanking him, Seifer slammed the hat on his head and stormed over to where the guy was practically leeching off Quistis.

"Hey girl. Want to come back to my place? I promise you'll have a good time…"

"Get out of my face asshole."

Seifer managed a grin unde the long brim of the hat. Well, she sure hadn't changed much. He stayed a few feet away, just to see if she could handle herself.

"C'mon baby. You got the goods and I want 'em." The stranger then proceeded to run a hand over Quistis' ass, and gave it a squeeze. The reaction was worthy of a volcano. Even from a few feet away, Seifer could see the fire in her eyes.

"Get the HELL away from me you perv!" This attracted a few stares from the passerby, but this guy was persistant and/or oblivious. Seifer's fists were clenched, he was still seething from that jerk's previous actions.

"Ohh, I like girls with attitude. You know you like it."

CRUNCH. The last comment had been too much for Seifer. In a blaze of fury, he had leaped forward and gave the guy a hard right across the face. He used his other hand to keep the hat covering his face. He coughed, trying to disguise his voice.

"Get the hell away from my girl!"

"Your girl?" Quistis asked. But neither heard her because they were already in a fistfight, now drawing the full attention of the town. Seifer never got hit, instead he was punching the man blindly, his aim secured and fueled by pure rage.

"Never," WHACK. "Touch," CRACK. "My girl," WHUMPH. "Again!" WHAM. With the last hit, he sent the man flying back into the café tables. He stood up straight, wiping the blood on his hands off on his pants. He turned towards Quistis, keeping his blazing jade eyes hidden. "Sorry he bothered you, miss." With that, he walked off, leaving Quistis behind, staring in disbelief.

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"Uh, Quistis, what just happened here?" Selphie, Rinoa (and Seify nipping at their heels) appeared behind her with ice cream. There was a crowd around the café tables, and the guy who was hitting on her previously was in the middle of it all, moaning, "He almost killed me! He's a savage!"

"Um…I'm not quite sure. See that guy over there?" she pointed. Rin and Selphie nodded. "Well that guy was hitting on me, and I was just about to maim him myself, when this other guy comes out of nowhere and start pummeling him. What's even stranger, he called me 'his girl.' And then he just ups and leaves."

Selphie squealed. "WHY didn't you follow him? He could be your secret admirer! Did you see his face? What did he look like?" Rinoa joined in the interrogation.

"Do you know who he is? Is he hot? What was his voice like?"

Quistis, still partly in shock, answered then as best she could. "Um, I didn't see his face, he kept a hat low over his face…he did have blond hair, though. He was really tall, and was wearing a long black coat. He had black jeans and black shoes. And one really, really strong right uppercut. His voice was deep, I guess. Kind of familiar, but I couldn'tplace it with anyone. I'm bad with voices." Selphie and Rinoa looked crestfallen. "Sorry." Selphie licked her ice cream cone, looking thoughtful.

"Hey, let's go look for him! How hard can it be to find a guy like that?" she excliamed out of the blue. "Black coat, hat, tall. This'll be a piece of cake!" The ice cream was all but forgotten. Seify barked in excitement. The hunt was on!

"He…he almost KILLED me! Get the police! Arrest that guy…Urrgh…" The stranger passed out, his face one bloody shade of red. The crowd murmered in agreement. Twowaiters from the café picked the unconcious man up off the ground and took him inside, whileanother began to call 911 on his cell phone.

The hunt was really on.

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Updated a bit.

Now, to Shiva16: The term "Ice Queen" was actually a term I picked up from another fanfic. I guess it just symbolizes a comon occurance in fics where Quistis starts out cold and impersonal, not letting herself have romance with nobody but "the one" or something. Sorry, that's the best I can give you.

I'd like to give a special shout out to Yuyami no Okami. You've reviewed on every chapter, I really appreciate it. thumbs up

Also, thanks to Shizmo and Yamipriestess, as well as previous reviewers. I just now figured out how to let anonymous people review, how slow is that --;

Peace out.


	5. Chapter Five

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Five**_

On the run again, huh Almasy? The voice in his head was painfully correct once again. When it came to making the truth hurt, his conscience had the aim of Irvine. Look at yourself – running away from your problems, just like you did before. And all because you couldn't control yourself…

"Shut up!" Seifer was running. Past the hotel, past the train station, past the store. Past Ma Dincht's house, past the Rent-A-Car store. The images flew by him, barely giving him time to acknowledge what they were. People were giving out startled cries as he knocked them out of his way. The images blurred together, as he tried to forget everything, to no avail.

Past the humiliation, the shame, the dishonor…

This is just great. You finally see her, alone, the perfect time to apologize, the perfect time to make your move – the perfect time to redeem yourself, and what do you do? You beat up a complete stranger because they grabbed her ass! Instead, you should have politely told him to get lost. So much for a changed man, you haven't changed at all!

"SHUT UP!" Seifer screamed. There were no passerby to stare at him strangely, he was standing alone in a field outside of Balamb, and nothing to hear his anguish except for the monsters in nearby forests. It was just reaching dusk, the sun throwing shades of red and orange on the ground like watercolor paints. Seifer let out another cry, sagging to his knees, anger welling up in his heart. Anger at himself, anger at the world. The same anger that fueled his actions years ago. Hyperion clattered to the ground.

"Hyne…why?" He let out a choked whisper. "Why…couldn't I have…"The words could not escape from the chains that bound his throat. He gasped for air. "Told her…how I felt? How come I couldn't restrain myself?" The anger seized his arm as he pounded the dusty ground with a fist. His eyes stung, but he held back the tears that would render him weak to a point beyond redemption. "Why couldn't I have controlled my actions? Have I…not changed that much over this time? Am I still the same bloodthirsty swordsman who knows nothing but how to kill?" He picked up Hyperion from the threadbare grass, propping his weight up against it. His body shook with bottled up tears, that his scarred soul seemed incapable of shedding. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead and between his shoulder blades, dripping down his face and spine. "Am I still a murderer who will never know an emotion besides rage and pain?" He threw off the black jacket, and sheathed Hyperion at his side. The torn white shirt underneath displayed rips and tears where weapons had left their marks in previous scuffles. "I am. This is who I am. This is who I'll always be." But Quistis, his mind insisted, change for her…

"Fuck the world if they have a problem with me! I am Seifer Almasy, ex-SeeD, public enemy, Gunblade specialist." No, you're Seifer Almasy, idiot, who is no more human than a monster in this very field, his mind replied. Seifer growled, running a hand through his short sandy blonde hair. "What's the point of trying to change? What does this shitty life hold for me anymore?"

If you don't know that, you're more of a fool than I thought, the nagging voice in his head answered. If you turn around and try, YES that means effort, to clean your slate, you can change your life. Besides, what happened to 'taking a chance'? You promised you'd tell her at least. You've betrayed countless people in the past, for once don't betray yourself and Quistis…Seifer shook his head. Great, now I'm turning into a frickin schizo. Either that or I've adopted a shoulder angel…don't know what's worse…

Seifer looked to the darkened sky, as if somehow, it might hold a solution to his problems. "You're right. I do need to change. I have to. I've seen her, and I can't turn back now until I tell her…" He hung his head in shame. "Heh, like she'll ever take me back. Who would?" Sighing, he simply stood in the wind, letting it dance through his shirt and hair, letting it approach him, touch him, attack him, but standing his ground in an attempt to reassure his own strength. A bite bug breezed past his ear. Instinctively, with the mindless reaction of a sniper, he slashed Hyperion through the air and watched with cold eyes at its blood spattered upon the ground, the broken wings floating down to join it shortly after. That could have been a human being, his mind commented, and it would have no more impact on your heart. This is why you have to change. Seifer broke down, shuddering as he realized who he really was.

"It's true. I'm not Seifer Almasy…I'm a coldhearted killer identified by a name, not by a face, not by a soul. My soul is lost, wandering the world in hope that I might save myself someday. But I can't…I can't save myself. I'm not strong enough." Strong enough? The persistent voice in his head asked. A man who could take down a whole army not strong enough to save his own soul? Trust me, this is not an issue of strength. What you need is faith and determination. It will make all the effort worth it. Even if you only get one chance…

_…Is it really true? Could you save yourself? For someone who will love you for you…_

"One chance." His voice dropped to a low murmur, but it was enough. The skies were his stands, the stars the audience – the wind the microphone, sending his words out to the heavens. He thought of her face, thought of the past – the days of childhood, carefree and happy. He thought of this miserable life he had created for himself…and how he wanted it to change. He raised Hyperion in front of his face.

"I'll save myself, Quistis…For you. Even if you despise me for the rest of your life…I'll save myself so you will know the real man behind this bloodstained sword. I can change. I will change. But only for you…" His eyes grazed the sky for a sign of approval. As if on cue, two shooting stars, side by side, blazed through they sky. It was worth more than all the glory or applause in the world.

With a lighter heart and a sad smile on his face, Seifer began the long walk back to Balamb Garden.

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"We found his coat, sir. About 0.8 miles from the front gates of Balamb."

"Did you find anything valuable, or any evidence?"

"Yes, sir. An ID card and a pocket watch."

"Good. Bring the girl in."

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"Yes?" Quistis entered the police chief's quarters, nervous and apprehensive. "Did you find a name yet?" The chief nodded, and motioned for her to take a seat at the other side of the desk. He was a younger man, 22, a prodigy of sorts in Balamb, the youngest police chief ever appointed. Clean-shaven, his black hair was neatly combed and hung over his forehead in painfully aligned wisps. Amber eyes warmly greeted her. A small smile twitched at the corners of his mouth.

"Hello to you too, Miss Trepe." Quistis flushed in embarrassment. In her hurry to discover the mystery man, she had completely forgotten her cool-as-ice routine. Taking a deep breath, she regained her composure. Or at least tried to.

"Um…Thank you, Mr.…?" Quistis scanned the room, looking for a diploma, a nameplate – anything, really to find his name. Aha. She read the Deling University diploma perched on the wall. "Mr. Crowell." He smiled at her efforts.

"You may call me Alec. And may I have the honor of calling you Quistis?" His voice was smooth as vanilla cream, suave and irrisistable. Irresistable to any girl besides Quistis, of course. Quistis looked slightly confused, unsure of how to react to such an offer.

"I…suppose…" she pursed her lips. She only then realized she was still wearing her slutesque outfit. Oh yeah, that just _screams _professional, Quistis. Any guy can practically see down your shirt. Way to set an example…

"We found the name 'Sam Laimay' on an ID card in a coat pocket. We're not sure if this is his real name, but regardless, we will be sending out a search to track him down. He also carried a pocket watch, which contains good samples of fingerprints." He passed the page of black smudges to her. Quistis' eyes flitted over the page, then she glanced skeptically at the chief.

"Do you expect me to take a look at these and tell you who it is?" Instead of explaining himself, the man laughed. Taken back, Quistis gave the paper back to him and crossed her arms. "Well, you might as well tell me what you want me to do. I just want to find this 'Sam Laimay' and talk to him. I have issues with him."

"Well, Miss Trepe, you are a fine instructor at Balamb Garden, correct?" Quistis blushed in response to Alec's comment. What exactly was this guy trying to get from her? Was he hitting on her? If he was, he was sure going about it in a gentlemanly fashion.

"Well, I am an Instructor…" She folded her hands in her laps, then unfolded them. She tugged at her skirt, twiddled her thumbs and fiddled with her hair. She had rarely felt this nervous, as if Alec was studying her like some exquisite piece of art. She wasn't sure whether she liked it or not…it was so much easier when they came straight up and groped her or something, so she could injure them then and there. But no, Alec was beating around the bush. If, of course, he _was_ hitting on her. "What exactly do you want me to do?"

"I have spoken to Miss Heartilly and Miss Tilmitt already. It appears that you suspect Mr. Liamay may be present at Balamb Garden. Therefore, we have chosen you to look through school files and the such to track this man down. We will provide you with any equipment you might need. But you will be the prime tool in finding this man, I leave this in your hands Quistis." With another dazzling smile, he gracefully withdrew himself from his chair and glided across the office. Pausing by the door, he turned and asked," By the way, would you let me take you out for dinner sometime?"

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Well, Save Yourself is taking a more dramatic turn I guess. This'll all be updated again later anyway. Work's been tiring me out…so I'll try and get some more work done, but don't bet on it. Any comments on the tone change would be appreciated. Ecch...this isn't my best work, I wasn't fully awake when I typed it up. Anyway.

Once again, I must thank Yuyami no Okami for being my biggest fan.

Hmm, I seem to be stuck on review number 13. I'm not superstitious, actually 13's my lucky number. (Juusan is 13 in Japanese) Just kind of a coincidence.

Feel free to give any suggestions.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	6. Chapter Six

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Six**_

"Urgh…finally here…" Seifer mumbled. The walk had been hours, and his legs felt like they were about to fall off. He was sweaty, exhausted, and covered in dust from the barren Alcauld Plains – basically, he felt like shit. Again.

Thankfully, there was nobody at the gates to check ID and throw him out. Even if they did believe he was a student or a SeeD, he had forgotten his forged ID in his jacket, which he had left just outside Balamb. Silently, he sneaked through the front gate and headed, once again, towards the dormitories. As his steps echoed through the empty halls, he began to wonder where everyone else was. Surely Garden hadn't been attacked while he was gone, everything looked pristine and undamaged. So what the hell was going on?

"Why aren't you at the assembly?" Seifer froze, and turned around to see who was talking to him. It was a SeeD, the ornate uniform giving him away at a second's glance. Seifer cracked a grin through the layers of dust and dirt covering his face when he saw the severly parted hair, those stupid shoulder pad things perfectly arranged and his pants creased. This guy was a total sap, smug and no doubt stuck up. Seifer decided to have a little fun while the opportunity was there.

"I skipped it." He relished in the disgusted face before him. Grinning wildly, he continued. "After I spray painted grafitti in all the bathrooms and trashed the cafeteria." He resisted the urge to laugh out loud when he saw the look of pure horror on the SeeD's face.

"Why you…how could you do such a thing like that?"

"Oh, it's easy. Spray paint is on sale for 5 gil at the Balamb harware store and it's just plain amazing what a sledgehammer can do." The SeeD spluttered and struggled for words.

"You monster! I'll have you expelled for this! What's your name?"

"First you gotta do me a favor." The SeeD raised a perfectly shaped eyebrow. Seifer could tell he was comtemplatiting whether he was joking or not.

"And why should I do a favor for you? What is it, anyway?"

"Oh, it's easy. Do us all a favor and get that stick out of your ass. I think it's been there too long and it might be affecting your brain." Seifer chuckled as the SeeD was rendered speechless once again. "Go ahead and expell me. Run off now, flee, you little stuck-up mama's boy."

"Why you little insignificant…" As Seifer turned his back and started to walk away, he heard the all-too-familiar click of a gun's safety being flicked off. Amateur, he thought inwardly. If you were really ready to fight, if you really wanted to hurt or _kill_ someone, you wouldn't have the safety on at all…Too late…now you pay…

With the grace and agility of a cat, he whirled around and charged at the SeeD, drawing Hyperion. In desparation, the SeeD fired his standard rifle, but fear and recoil hindered his aim and the shot grazed past Seifer's left shoulder. The last thing he saw was a blazing streak of jade and a black blur of solid steel gunblade.

"Who's insignificant?" Seifer breathed into the SeeD's ear. The helpless soldier quivered as the sinfully sharp steel blade hovered less than an inch from his neck. "Some SeeD you are. You probably bought your way in here, huh?" The edge drew closer. Sweat broke out on the SeeD's forehead. Seifer tensed, making sure he could combat any escape maneuver. "You don't know what it's like to lose everything. You don't know what it's like to feel real pain. You've probably had everything in your life handed to you on a silver platter…"

The SeeD whimpered, as he started to shake uncontrollably. "Better watch it, wouldn't want you to get cut…" Seifer's firey jade eyes had cooled down to a icy blue-green. "So, who's going to save you now? There's nobody here to save you…" He brought back the gunblade, ready to make one final, fatal cut…

_Nobody here to save you…you can't even save yourself…_

Seifer froze. Grpping Hyperion's hilt until his knuckles turned white, he stopped his arm in mid-swing. The SeeD's eyes were closed, and he was whimpering softly, like a battered puppy. It was a pathetic sight. And here he was, about to slay an innocent boy, only guilty of being a Grade-A asshole, in cold blood…It was almost like he was in Ultimecia's control again, killing a minor instinct – an unconcious _reaction_ to any problem he faced. This is exactly what I've been trying to resist…Sighing, he lowered Hyperion to his side, and used his other arm to shove the SeeD to the ground, unscathed. Hyperion would bear no blood today. "Get out of my face." He voice was as cold and impersonal as Trabian tundra. The SeeD looked at him, disbelieving and nearly drowing in his own sweat. "I said MOVE IT!" Seifer shouted the last two words, swinging Hyperion in front of him. "Consider yourself lucky!" with a small cry, the SeeD scampered off, leaving Seifer contemplating his own self-control again.

He walked down the halls to the dormitories, thankful that he had left the floors scuffed up and not bloodstained. But what was one life spared, compared to his rampages of death before? Waves of guilt plagued him as he imagined all of the innocent blood that he had shed in years past. Waves, indeed. The mere thoughts were on the verge of swallowing him whole…Shaking his head, he let the thoughts fade with the echoes of his footsteps.

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"Aiieeee! Seify just peed on my brand new shoes!" Selphie screeched, attracting a large amount of stares and chuckles from nearby Balamb residents.

"Well, he's a puppy, what did you expect?" Quistis remarked, bending down and scratching Seify behind the ears. "You didn't mean that, did you Seify?" she laughed as a michevious glint in the small dog's eyes silently said otherwise. She picked him up and cradled him in the crook of her arm. "You're a good dog, yes you are!" Rinoa and Selphie looked at each other in disbelief. They managed to shake it off, and proceeded to inquire about the police chief.

"Sooo, who was that hottie back at the police station?" Quistis looked up from Seify with a bored expression.

"Oh yeah, that guy. His name's Alec something."

"Hellooo, wake-up call! That guy is a 10 on the hottie scale! The mold that all models are made of! Of course, my Irvy's hotter." Selphie helpfully pointed out, to no avail.

"Mmhmm…" Quistis let Seify perch on her shoulder while she looked through her wallet. She missed Selphie look at Rinoa in a silent plea of help.

"Did he ask you out?" Straight up, right to the point. It worked. Quistis froze and slowly turned her head towards them, blinking a few times before speaking.

"Yes. And, yes, I did accept." Rinoa and Selphie screamed in excitement. Quistis had dubbed them the 'Ant Chorus' by now, and it was quite fitting, as she had to cover her ears on their latest performance. She didn't feel much of anything for Alec, except maybe irritated, but maybe it would put her one step closer to finding "Sam Liamay."

"Oh my Hyne! Where's he's taking you? This is sooo exciting!" Selphie the pogo stick was literally bouncing up and down. Sighing, Quistis gave her a small glare that basically said 'you're embarrasing me, please stop before I kill you'. For once, Selphie got the point, and remained still. "Uh…so where are you guys going?"

"La Finesse. It's a restaurant, I guess…" Quistis was cut off by another rousing cheer from the ant chorus.

"La Finesse is only the single most expensive restaurant in Balamb!" Rinoa squealed. "Ooh, you're one lucky girl. That guy must be rich!" Quistis rolled her eyes.

"If I ever liked a man, it would be for his heart and mind…not for his body or money." She laughed in spite of herself. I must've broken the single commandment of all sluts and whores with that one. But it was true. She had witnessed so many people marry for money and it sickened her. Love was no longer a matter of the heart, it was a matter of the wallet. She never dreamed of a Prince Charming, never imagined a man coming out of nowhere and sweeping her off her feet. Then Alec had to come into the picture, the 'ideal man' that other girls would kill to date. And Quistis could barely care. All she wanted was to find out the truth of what had happened to Seifer, and who Sam Liamay was. Then, maybe, she could give up and surrender herself to the highest bidder, like a cheap piece of merchandise.

She suddenly wished for her childhood days, when Seifer and herself had ruled magnificent castles, even if they were only made of sand. Two friends, a queen and her knight…

_"Seifer?" He looked up from poking a crab with a small pice of driftwood. "Seifer, can we build a castle?" He smiled and nodded, scooting over to her across the sand. They spent a few minutes picking out the perfect spot of sand, free of rocks and about 10 feet from the water's edge. The sun beat down on their small bodies and the tide crept slowly closer as they used their hands to dig through the sand to create a masterpiece. Clumps of wet sand became towers, trenches became unpassable moats. Quistis was the queen of their little castle, hermit crabs were the servants and a squirmy little crab was the court jester. There was no King by her side, only a faithful knight, waving a rotted branch around like a sword._

"_I will protect you, my queen!" Seifer exclaimed, challenging anything on the beach to dare defy him. Quistis giggled and fell back onto the sand. The tide was closing in, lapping at their feet and flooding the royal courtyards. _

"_Seifer?" Quistis shielded her eyes with a sun-flecked and tanned arm as she looked up at her loyal companion. "You'll never leave me, right?" The blazing light winked off his sunbleached hair as he tilted his face to look down at her. He smiled, an honest and beautiful smile that only comes with true friendship._

"_Of couse not. You're my Quisty."_

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Seifer found himself once again standing in front of the all-too-familiar room 1719. He decided to gamble with his luck again, and he was less than surprised to find the door open again. It was like a routine, although he never should have been here in the first place, let alone last time or right now.

"Oh, Quisty. What am I going to do now?" He flopped down on her bed to collect his thoughts. This whole returning-to-life thing required some serious strategy, and he found himself putting more attention to detail in it than any mission he'd encountered before. Then again, that was back when he had nothing _to_ lose. And he knew as well as anyone that there's nothing more dangerous than a person who has nothing to lose.

But this time you do have something to lose, his mind commented. "Hell, you're _back_? Why can't you just leave me alone?" He covered his face with a pillow, trying to will the stupid voice of reason out of his head.

Because we both know what trouble you'd get into if I wasn't here. So you're in Quistis' room again. Get planning boy, you've got a lot of ground to cover.

Seifer groaned and rolled over. The long walk to Balamb, the softness of a real bed instead of cold hard ground, and the intoxicating scent of Quistis' blankets finally hit him and he fell asleep, exhausted.

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Sorry this took so long to get up. My family's been having some problems lately and of course, there's full-time work. I've been running off 3 cans of Coke a day (liquid variety, there's no way in hell I'd ever be a druggie) for the past week.

Thank you SO much Jack Hanek! Your reviews gave me enough inspiration to keep this going…you're a prince! I promise I'll review your fic as soon as I find time. Thanks as well to Lain of the Weird.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	7. Chapter Seven

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Seven**_

"Seify, stop chewing the upholstery." The small dog whined in protest, munching on a large chunk of foam and fabric. "I know this car is in bad enough shape already, but that stuff can't be healthy." Quistis proceeded to engage in small warfare with Seify, as she attempted to extract the foam from his jaws.

"So, Rinoa." Selphie, in a terrific display of hand-eye coordination, had finished painting her nails (another blinding shade of pink) and was now in the glossing-and-glittering process. "What is Quistis going to wear tonight?"

Quistis looked up in alarm, ignoring the fact that Seify had discarded the foam and replaced his chew toy with her fingers. "Uh…maybe I'd like a say in this?"

"Nonsense. You don't just wear _anything_ to La Finesse, you know." Rinoa commented, her voice suggesting that it was common knowledge – like the alphabet perhaps, or the numbers from 1 to 10. "We'll have to find something suitable for you to wear. Selphie, what do you think her color is?"

Quistis shrunk back into her seat, waiting for the impending headache. Hope we get to Garden soon, she thought. I just want to get this over with… "You're lucky you're a dog Seify. You don't have to deal with these two." Seify contentedly bit her thumb in response.

Minutes later, Selphie and Rinoa had finished deciding which clothes, accessories, makeup and hair products she was expected to wear, and were now focusing on her etiquette.

"Quistis, don't bring any weapons to the restaurant."

"Let him open doors for you."

"If he offers to cover the cheque, don't object…"

Quistis plugged her ears with her fingers, trying to drown out the 'princess lessons'. For Hyne's sake, I know how to act, I'm not a hopeless case, she thought – knowing it would have no effect on the duo in the front seats if she told them. In desperation, she threw herself forward to turn on the radio. Anything was better than hearing about which fork to use for what meal.

_Last time I talked to you_

_You were lonely and out of place_

_You were looking down on me, lost out in space_

_Laid underneath the stars _

_Strung out and feeling brave_

_I watched the red orange glow, I watched you float away…_

"I take it you're sick of us talking, huh Quistis?" Rinoa chuckled from the drivers seat. When there was no response, she glanced back quickly. "Quistis…?" Quistis was mesmerized, eyes distant, leaning forward slightly, listening intently to the radio. Shrugging, Rinoa focused her attention back to the road. Selphie occupied herself with filing her nails as the rain started pouring down.

_And all we are_

_Is all so far_

_You're falling back to me_

_The star that I can see_

_I know you're out there, somewhere out there_

_You're falling out of reach_

_Defying gravity_

_I know you're out there, somewhere out there…_

"Alright, we'll be home soon. It's 7:30 now, he's picking you up at 9:00. You're going to have a great time tonight Quistis!"

Just great…Quistis leaned against the cold glass of the car window. It was dark by now, and Seify had snuggled up to her, clearly afraid of the night. She watched her reflection in the scratched windowpane, as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

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"Ok, Quistis. Take a shower in your room and then come and find us. We'll make you look so good, you'll be a new person!" That's what I was afraid of, Quistis thought, a grim smile plastered on her face. Why should I have to be a completely different person for a guy? Shouldn't an ideal partner in life like you for who you are? She watched Rinoa and Selphie scurry off, discussing her date feverishly. Over the whole discussion in the car, not once had Quistis been asked her opinion on anything.

Instead of going to her room, Quistis pulled her wireless computer that was issued out to all Instructors, called a DataPod. It doubled as a call phone, and was only slightly bigger than one. She pulled out a small slip of paper with the Balamb Police Station's number on it and tapped the corresponding buttons.

"Hello?" She recognized the silky-smooth voice instantly. Alec's – the man whose words always sounded like they had been planned weeks in advance.

"Alec? It's me, Quistis."

"Quistis? How pleasant to hear from you again. May I help you?"

"Alec, could you send any information you have on the case and Sam Liamay to my Garden account? You know the number."

"Why, sure – that will be no problem at all."

"Alright then…see you tonight." Quistis wasn't exactly sure how to end a phone conversation elegantly. Rinoa and Selphie had never covered that field. Then again, that could have been something that she had ignored.

"I look forward to seeing you tonight Quistis, it has been a pleasure talking to you again." With a click, the conversation was over. So that's how, huh? Leave it to Alec to be Mister Sophisticated. Quistis smiled a little, putting her DataPod back in her purse and headed for Cid's office. Before she started any researching, she would need to do a record check on the elusive Sam Liamay.

When she got to his office, she lifted her hand to knock but paused when she heard some borderline hysterical yelling coming from inside. She peered in the window, where a SeeD was pacing the room, yelling at a bored looking Squall and a concerned Cid.

"He…Gunblade! That's right! … neck…graffiti!…bathrooms…trashed…cafeteria!…Dangerous! …could've killed me!"

Quistis gingerly knocked on the door. The automatic door slid open, and Quistis walked slowly up to Cid's desk. The irate SeeD, no longer the center of attention, stopped ranting and pacing long enough to glare at her. Squall looked up in relief (obviously glad for a break from this spluttering fool) and Cid gave her a questioning glance, gesturing for her to sit down.

"Quistis. What a surprise. What can I help you with?"

"I need the school record for Sam Liamay, if it's not too much trouble."

"LIAMAY! That bastar…" Quistis looked at the SeeD in alarm.

"You know him?" She swiveled her chair around, attention piqued.

"Yah, he almost killed me in the halls 'bout 20 minutes ago!"

"How do you know it was him?" Cid abruptly cut of the SeeD, answering the question for her.

"Well, he didn't give his name. However, the police chief of Balamb – Alec, I think his name was," Quistis flushed a little at the mention of his name. Nobody noticed. "Called us about an hour ago, giving us a description, telling us to keep an eye out for him. Apparently the man involved in this altercation matches the description perfectly."

The SeeD, in a desperate attempt to draw attention to himself, rattled off a description before Cid could.

"Long, shaggy, dirty blonde hair, clothes that looked like they haven't been washed in a month…A gunblade, deadly sharp. Eyes like a tiger," he paused to shudder for effect. "Hyne, those eyes…Could pierce through you like a bullet. Low voice, kind of scratchy. And mood swings – one second he could've killed me instantly, the next, he's biffing me on the floor and running off! What an…"

"What color were his eyes?" Quistis asked, before the Seed could throw in a few choice 4-letter adjectives.

"Huh? Blue maybe? I didn't quite see them, I only saw them for a second before he had a blade to my neck! Just a blur of something really bright – coulda been yellow for all I know!"

"Hmm…" Quistis leaned back in her chair, deep in thought.

"…what a priss…mumblemumble…probably bought his way into SeeD…" she cracked a grin at Squall's low mumbling. It was true. The SeeD looked like his mother ironed his clothes twice a day, and was allergic to things like mud, or violence. Her thoughts were interrupted by another knock at the door. Another SeeD rushed in, breathless.

"The security cameras, Headmaster Cid…they didn't catch…the incident! Apparently…they were in maintenance today, sir!" Cid frowned, lines creasing his forehead.

"Very well, Johnson. We'll leave the case, and Sam Liamay to Instructor Trepe. You are all dismissed." With a tired sigh, Cid held Quistis back. "Quistis, Sam Liamay isn't a student at Balamb, Trabia or Galbadia garden. Information is leading us to believe that the gunblade is a piece of stolen Garden property…In fact nothing about this man adds up. For all we know, Sam Liamay may not be his real name at all. He might be hiding somewhere in Garden, but we have all SeeDs on guard in case he tries to escape. If he isn't here…well, there's nothing we can do. It's up to you – would you like to hold the responsibility of this case in your hands? You don't have to, you know."

"Cid…'Sam Liamay' and I have a little score to settle. I don't intend to let this go until I find him. You can count on me." Cid smiled softly in response to her answer.

"I thought you'd say something like that. Now, who am I to stop you?" he chuckled lightly. "Now, go and get ready for your big night." Quistis stared at him in amazement.

"How?"

"Well, aside from Miss Heartilly and Miss Tilmitt practically broadcasting it though the halls, I heard it from the police chief himself. Now go." He shooed her away, an amused expression playing on his face.

When she left, Cid turned to face Edea, who had entered his office from his personal headquarters.

"She's growing up so fast…I almost hesitate to let her go."

"We're not her parents, you know…no matter how much we wish we were."

"I know, Cid…I know." The both walked out to the balcony to gaze upon the darkened navy sky – spattered with stars, glittering like motionless tears.

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Quistis weaved herself through the SeeDs that littered the halls. Apparently Cid was pulling all the stops on protecting the cadets and junior classmen. Hopefully there wasn't another herd of them around the dormitories, it wasn't as if 'Sam' could get into one of the rooms in the first place.

Thankfully, there wasn't any SeeD's around her dorm, or even any Trepies for that matter. Sighing with relief, she swiped her room key a few times before realizing it wasn't making the usual 'beep' she was used to. Or any noise at all for the matter. The painful realization that her door was left open – again! – hit her like a brick. Which meant someone had no doubt visited her. Great, the Trepies were bad enough, now she had to deal with full-scale stalkers. Unless it was Sam who had decided to pay her a visit… Shoving the door open, she strided into her room. Nothing seemed out of place. Her laptop was still where it always was, the recently-added hole by the bed was still there. (Quistis was inwardly disappointed that her room-cleaner Romeo hadn't patched it up)

Wait a second. Quistis' eyes zoomed in on the bed like a hawk's on its prey. The bundle on the bed could either be bunched up blankets..or…

"Quistis, WHAT are you doing?" Quistis only had a second to react before she was tackled from behind and brutally dragged out the door. Wincing, she glanced up at her attacker, then immediately got a faceful of purse.

"Selphie?" herexpression was a mixture of disbelief, confusion and migraine.

"Oops. Sorry about that purse bit," the brunette giggled. "But you were taking too long, it's 8:15 already! We have to get you ready, so Rinoa sent me to fetch you."

"A nice tap on the shoulder would have been sufficient," she groaned, exasperated. "That wasn't fetching, that was assault and battery!" She rolled her eyes as Selphie giggled again in response.

"Oh, Quistis. Don't be so uptight. Now come on, we're going to dress you up to be a real knockout!"

"Keep this up, and you'll be the one knocked out – Ahh!" she managed to yelp in protest before being towed away to Rinoa's room and her own impending doom, cringing as Selphie described the evening gown she would be forced to wear.

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The sound of joints popping was oddly satisfying to Seifer's ears as he stretched the kinks out of his back. Sleeping in a soft bed had become almost foreign to him after months of living on a cold, hard street. Sighing in rare contentment, he flopped back into the soft blankets. They smelled sweet and welcoming, no wonder he had fallen asleep so quickly. And what a fantastic dream it had been…

_The salt water crashed onto the sand, inching over more territory with every wave as the tide came in. He was walking along the waterline, in the wet brown sand, sidestepping jellyfish and razor clam shells. People always threw the focus of a beach on the hot tan sands, but Seifer always thought the sand closest to the water's edge was better. It made better sandcastles, and didn't burn your feet – vital qualities for an adventurous youngster. But now, it was perfect for calming the mind of a young man, struggling to organize his priorities and responsibilities in life._

_He was clothed only in a light pair of black cotton pants, frayed and soaked at the bottom, and an unbuttoned white cotton longsleeved shirt. A small silver Fire Cross dangled on a thin chain around his neck, swaying from side to side with each step he took. His skin was lightly tanned, and his hair was sunbleached to the palest blonde possible._

_Footsteps squishing in the wet sand caught his attention, and he turned swiftly to face whatever dared interrupt his peaceful outing. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes took in the sight before him. It was Quistis, her hair out and flowing like spun gold, playing with the breeze as strands framed her face. Her features glowed in the sunset's final splashes of red and orange, and Seifer had never seen any girl compare to the one in front of him this very moment. Her blue eyes were brilliant like pure sapphire, and he knew he could drown in those eyes and die happy. When she made to movements to whip his ass or put a bullet through his head, he dared to let his eyes travel down her body._

_He let out a small gasp as he took in the dark red bikini and white board shorts. He had only seen her in three outfits: the traditional SeeD uniform, that peach suit she always wore, and that outfit she wore out in Balamb. Hyne…his mind stumbled for words to describe the body gracing his prescence. Years of physical training had done nothing but good to her body, he could see tight muscles underneath her flat stomach, and her curveswere perfectly sculpted. He was sure that if Hyne could sculpt a woman, she would be no more beautiful than Quistis._

_"Hyne, Quistis…you look unbelievable…" She said nothing, only looked up at him with her shimmering cobalt eyes and took his hand in her own. Her skin was soft, a sharp contrast to his rough and calloused fingers. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, noticing how well their hands fit together. Inside, he wondered how well they might fit together…Smiling down at her, he used his other hand to trace out the contours of her face – her smooth cheek, her soft lips…Leaning forward, he looked into her eyes, asking silent permission to take it a step further. She nodded slightly, turning her head so their lips quivered an inch apart…_

Seifer had never regretted waking up so much. It was the best dream he had had…well…since, ever really. For years his sleep had been plagued by bloody and violent nightmares, most of them consisting of him dying, or him killing one or more people. There had been one dream he remembered all too vividly…He had actually witnessed Quistis being tortured and worse…he had ended up forcing himself awake. Thankfully, that nightmare had never resurfaced. Today's perfect dream had been interrupted by the alarm clock going off, urgently telling him about tomorrow's UV factor and the humidity level. He had resisted the urge to smash the clock with his bare hands, only because he had already destroyed enough of her room already. (he shot a guilty glance at the gaping hole in the wall)

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed and reluctantly getting up, he noted the coast was clear and he was free to leave. It appeared that nobody had entered the room since he had arrived (about 2 hours, according to that damned clock)– always a good thing in his current situation. He stumbled into the kitched, thankful that Quistis had saved about a mug and a half-full of coffee left in the pot. He switched on the auto-warmer, while rooting around in her cupboards for anything edible. Settling on a mostly stale blueberry muffin, he poured himself a mug of straight black coffee and commenced his makeshift supper.

Several minutes later, he was sitting at Quistis' computer desk, hunched over a pice of paper, a pen hovering an inch abve the paper as he struggled for the right note to leave behind.

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Okay, I'm a little happier with this version. Comments and reviews are always appreciated. A big thank you goes out to Yuyami no Okami and Jack Hanek, rock on.

The song "Somewhere out There" is by an awesome band called Our Lady Peace, and it remains to date my favorite song of all time. If you haven't heard anything by OLP, I strongly recommend it. Rock genre.

Next challenge will be Quistis' dinner date with that sickeningly suave man, Alec. Feel free to suggest any ideas. Should it go well? Be a disaster? I know about as much as you do.

For all of you enjoying you summer vacation, live it up! Enjoy the sun but don't get sunburnt, I just recently got a really bad sunburn and couldn't sleep for a while. Sunscreen/sunblock is your friend!

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	8. Chapter Eight

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

**_Chapter Eight_**

Something to be seen, not to be heard. The old saying somehow described what Quistis was feeling right now. Like an exquisite painting, she felt like she had been covered in careful brush strokes, applying a perfect layer over her that would hide any flaws.

Her hair was styled in a sort of up-do, stray curls framing her face and curls piled on the back of her head, hiding some of the burns that a not-so-skilled Rinoa gave her with a curling iron. (Selphie took over shortly after, having loads of experience on her own hair.) when Selphie had finished, she was sure her hair resembled curly pasta…or a mop, despite Selphie's reassuring comments.

The dress was outrageous as her hair. Her friends had unanimously decided that dark red was her color (Of course, she wasn't included in the vote) and they had picked the most elegant, most expensive and most unpractical evening gown possible. The top was strapless, and painfully form fitting.

"Um, I can't really breathe…" Quistis gasped. She suddenly had a new sympathy to those women that had to wear girdles long ago.

"Oh well. That's not really necessary when you look this good." Selphie stated matter-of-factly, oblivious to the glare Quistis shot at her.

Layers of crimson satin flowed down her legs, puddling at her feet. She grinned, hoping for a way out. "Look, this dress is too long…I can't wear it, I'll be tripping over myself. How inelegant!" Rinoa and Selphie paused, struck by the fact that their flawless dress might have a flaw.

"Uh…" Rinoa took another minute to ponder the possibilities. "We could always hem it, but we don't have time." Another minute of total silence passed. "I've got it!"

"You'll find me another dress?" A hopeful Quistis asked, almost sure her circulation was being cut off.

"No, of course not. We don't have enough time. You'll just have to wear higher heels!" Somehow higher heels weren't exactly the saving solution Quistis was looking for. "What happened to that pair that we bought you a while ago? Are they still in your room? I'll go look for them."

"NO!" she didn't want them to find…whatever it was that was in her bed, assuming there was still something or someone there. Better not take any chances.

"I uh…lent them to Xu."

"Oh wait…she's on vacation, isn't she?" Selphie pouted. Quistis was grinning from ear to ear now. She might get out of this whole thing.

"Quis can wear a pair of mine, we have the same size feet." Her face fell. "I have just the pair, too." Rinoa disappeared into her closet, emerging with a pair of shoes Quistis could only gape at. The heels were at least three inches tall, and to beat that, they just had to be stilettos. Quistis groaned in sheer pain. Now not only did she have to remember to breathe, she had to make sure she didn't break her neck.

"Do you honestly expect me to wear these?" she howled. Standing on them was like walking with stilts, one wrong move and you're heading for a very painful faceplant.

"Oh trust me, you learn to walk in those, you can walk in _anything_." Rinoa smiled. "Good for honing your balance."

"Oh great. I'm sure this would be great training for me…if I was a tightrope walker." She shook her head. There was no turning back, now she would be forced to go through the whole night with Alec, Mr. Smooth. She didn't really care how much other women swooned over him, he was just another guy and he would be dealt with like just another guy. If he tried to feel her up she would kick him in the groin. Simple as that.

"Ok, it's 8:45. Time for us to get ready, Sel." Rinoa dashed into her bedroom, and Selphie ran into the bathroom, leaving Quistis to stand alone in the living room, staring at herself in the full-length mirror. I suppose I do look decent, she mused. Good enough for Alec, I guess. I better damn well be, she thought with a flash of anger.

"Hey, what are you getting ready for, anyway?" Quistis shouted, in the general direction of both Rinoa and Selphie. As soon as she had finished the sentence, both of them exited their respective rooms at the exact same time, fully dressed. Quistis sourly noted it had taken them at least 1/6 of the time to get ready by themselves than it had taken both of them to 'prepare' her.

"I'm going to La Finesse too," Selphie giggled. "Irvy's taking me. And Rinoa actually convinced Squall to take her out to dinner. She hasn't told me where they're going yet…"

"That's none of your business!" Rinoa laughed, throwing a pillow at Selphie, who screeched and ducked out of the way, an amazing feet in 3-inch heels. Quistis felt strangely out of place.

"8:55. C'mon, Quis, we don't want to keep them waiting!" For the third time that day, she was dragged against her will by an overly energetic Selphie. She was surprised her wrists weren't falling off by now.

"Alright, alright. I can walk by myself you know." She shook off Selphie's hand and teetered unsteadily on her feet. Maybe those 3-inch stilettos did take some practice to walk on. Not willing to give the other girl satisfaction out of her predicament, she walked straight ahead, looking at hertoes peeking out from the edge of her dressto make sure she didn't trip. "So where are they picking us up, anyway?"

"Right here. Look up, Quis." She did, wobbling again. Then she just stared in amazement at the sight before her.

It was the limousine to end all limos. A shiny, lustrous black, at least 20 feet long, chrome accents, and a least a half-million-gil price tag. Sleek, sexy and boasting wealth. Quistis detested drawing attention to herself, and frankly, she hated this vehicle like a bout of the plague. She could already tell who it belonged to.

"Ah, Miss Trepe, what a pleasure to see you again." The smooth-as-silk voice was as identifiable as a face. Before she could blink, Alec (clad in some fancy tuxedo which no doubt cost a couple of thousand gil) had appeared in front of her and was kissing her hand. Quistis resisted the impulse to snatch her hand back, not wanting to ruin the night within the first minute. "May I escort you to my car?"

"Yes, thank you." Car my ass, Quistis thought, but decided on saying otherwise. "What a beautiful car it is." Inwardly, she gagged. She remembered Selphie saying something about guys loving it when girls complimented their cars. Alec, apparently, was no exception. Although his reaction was a little more subtle – it _was_ Alec, after all.

"Why thank you, Quistis. That's very kind of you." When his back was turned, Quistis made a face. She was going to hurl if he kept this pristine attitude. Would it kill him to swear, get angry, do something interesting at _all_? Pssh, everyone probably thinks we're perfect for each other. They couldn't be more wrong, in my opinion. Hah, Selphie's got it easy, it may be a fancy restaurant but at least she knows the guy she's going with.

Letting out an inaudible groan, she leaned back against the leather upholstry and willed the night to be over with. Taking a small glance to her side, she saw Alec smiling at her. Even his teeth were perfect, he looked like he just marched off a Crest Whitestrips commercial. He was lounged across the seat, casually posed. If he was anyone but Alec, she could swear they would be saying something like 'see something you like?'

Flashing a quick, faltering smile, she turned back to the window.

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Where is she? Surely she could be back by now…Seifer was sprawled across Quistis' bed, drinking a coke and flipping through a magazine he had found among the thick books on her bookshelf. For some reason, even Weapons Monthly didn't appeal to him right now. He tossed it aside and mulled over his current situation.

I'm getting tired of waiting. I want to tell Quistis how I feel, even if I'm not sure _what _I feel. But I can't let her know I'm Sam Liamay – I want her to know me as a changed man. But as long as 'Sam' is out there, I can't do a thing. What can I do? Just give myself up and go to prison for a few years? So much could _happen_ in a few years. I could lose Quistis, for Hyne's sake. But if I tell her now, it would only be a matter of time before the police catch up to me, and she would see I was just a violent man all over again…This is all so messed up!

He sat up to readjust the now-flattened pillows, when a book of some sort hidden beneath them caught his eye. Interest piqued, he placed the pillow down and picked up the tattered book. It had a faded crimson cover, which gave nothing away, until he turned to the first page, where the title was scrawled in messy script.

_The Diary of Quistis Trepe_.

"Well now, isn't this something." Despite his conscience's feeble attempts to stop him, he turned the pages until the writing started. Evidently, Quistis had been writing in this for quite some time, as the first entries were scrawled with a child's hand. He decided to read the first entry, to see just how far back it went. The page itself had been ripped out, and taped back in. He noticed that the first 15 or so pages were identical. His eyebrows raised in surprise as his eyes scanned the page.

_Dear diary,_

_Today me and and a whole bunch of other kids came to the house by the sea. I think they call it "Centra Point". Our adoptive mother is called Matron, and she is really kind and I can't wait to stay here! It's so much better than an orphanage. There's one other girl and 4 other boys. One of them is really hyper and cries a lot, I think his name was Zell. That's a funny name. Then there's this quiet boy, whos name is Squall, who is really boring and won't talk to me. He's no fun. The other girl's name is Selphie, and she's really happy and always wants to play. Her hair is strange, it curls up at the bottom. Another boy here is called Irvine, he's taller than most of us, and he's really nice to me and Selphie. I think he likes Selphie, but I can't tell either of them that! _

_The last boy is really something. His name is Seifer, and he's really mean. He fights with Squall a lot, actually, he fights with everyone. For some reason though, I like him the most out of all the boys here. I wonder why?_

Seifer smiled in faint amusement.At 5 years old, Quistis could spell and write amazingly well for an age group that was still learning to print letters.She really was brilliant, years ahead of everyone else.Seifer chuckled at the mention of cry-baby Zell, and 'boring' Squall. When he got to the last line, he paused. Why did Quistis become his friend, those many years ago? He certainly wasn't very nice to her when they first met, he wasn't nice to anyone except Matron. But she was always nice to him, she was always his friend. Time, GF's, and his lust for power took the toll on their friendship, destroying the pieces that remained. And now he was stuck, reading her diary, with no hope of regaining her trust and friendship again.

"Well, I started this, might as well continue it." He flipped through the pages. A page with smudged words caught his eye, It looked as if she had been crying while she had been writing it.

_Dear diary,_

_Today I had to leave the orphanage, they found some new parents for me. I don't want to leave here, I love it here too much. I'm going to miss Zell, even his tattling. I'm going to miss Selphie, and Irvine, and even Squall. But most of all I'm going to miss Seifer. He's like a brother to me, a best friend – more than that, really. We do everything together, I don't want to know what it'll be like living without him. I asked Matron if my new parents could take Seifer with me, but she said no. Why does it have to be like this!_

_I don't want to say goodbye, I don't want to leave. I just want to stay here with Matron, Sis, my friends, and my best friend Seifer. No parents could ever replace them._

_I'm going to say goodbye to everyone now…I wonder if I'll see them again?_

Small tears stung at Seifer's eyes as he remembered the day Quistis had to leave. He had been so angry at her that he had run away, and hadn't returned for 3 days. He hadn't even said goodbye to her…When he came to Garden, she didn't remember him because of the GFs, and he was angry at her for that. There was a point in time where he could've sworn she remembered who he was, but they were too far deep in their hatred for each other that nothing could be done. Oh, there were so many things he could've changed, if only he had a little bit of foresight. He turned a few more pages, skimming the words and reading certain passages.

_…Two new boys came to Garden today. They both look so familiar, but I can't place them exactly. Both of them are supposed to be in my classes, I wonder if they'll be good students. I did some research on GF's and found they were linked to memory loss, maybe that's why I can't remember…_

_…I found some torn out pages of my diary today. I had ripped them out when I had left the orphange – and they brought back a flood of memeories. It turns out my students were Squall and Seifer! Squall hasn't changed at all, but Seifer has. Now he's inconsiderate, ignorant and conceited. What happened to my childhood friend, Seify? He's rude to me in the halls, in class, anytime I see him. What could have happened to make him this way?…_

_…The SeeD field exam was today. Squall, Selphie and Zell made it. I'm proud of them. Seifer, however, failed the exam because he just had to do things his way. I wish sometimes he would just clean his act up and act seriously for once, like the Seifer I used to know. Oh, if only I had known who he was when he came here!…_

_…Selphie wanted us to start writing diaries to keep track of events in case we forgot them. Little does she know I've been keeping one for years…_

_…Today I had to fight Seifer. I didn't want to, but it was my job as a SeeD to fight the sorceress, no matter who stood in my way. Even if was Seifer. In all honesty, he looked beautiful, standing there with his gunblade (Hyperion, I think it was called) poised to attack. I felt terrible pulling my whip out, but I knew that nothing would stop Seifer from attacking me anyway…_

_…Ultemicia was defeated today. We're all 'heroes' now, apparently. I sure don't feel like a herione. I wonder what happened to Seifer? I won't tell anyone but these pages, but I really miss him. I want to take up where our friendship left off, if I could ever see him again…_

_…It's been a year since Seifer disappeared. I'm starting to lose hope. I wish I had found those diary pages sooner, I miss him so much it hurts. I miss his arrogance, that smirk he always wore, his slight slouch, just everything about him…_

_…So today, some guy (I hope) cleaned up my dorm for me. Weird, eh? He also left a sonnet, by one of my favorite poets. Selphie and Rinoa agree I have a secret admirer. I think I have a secret stalker/maid. I wonder if I'll ever meet him…_

Closing his eyes, Seifer placed the diary back under the pillow, wallowing in guilt. So many things he could've changed. He hadn't wanted to fight against her, but Ultemecia's control over him had been too great. He had watched in fear as his arm moved out of his control, praying that it wouldn't hit her. He watched it slash at her, while she deftly blocked it with her whip. She was definitely one of the most skilled fighters he had ever seen. And the most beautiful...

She misses me? I…didn't know that. I….miss her, too. I miss our arguments, I miss the sound of her voice, I miss our childhood days and I miss everything we ever did.

With a new feeling of sheer determination, he decided to gamble his life away on one opportunity. He knew he had a criminal record a mile long, and chances are if he was caught as 'Sam Liamay', police wouldn't hesitate to throw him in jail for 10 years. But if Quistis knew how he felt…it would make it all worth it. His old trademark smirk flickered across his face. Time to do a little snooping. He knew a hidden passage to the security camera control room, and from there he could easily find Quistis. From here, Quistis' dorm, he should take a right, go up the stairs…He took a minute to plot out his route.

"Heh. Let's roll." He strode to the door, hope in his eyes and his heart. Upon opening the door, however, it quickly died.

"Hands up, Liamay. You're coming with us." Five armed policemen, badges identifying them as Balamb officers, surrounded Seifer in seconds. His eyes darted around, couting their weapons. One had a pistol, one had pepper spray, and one had a tonfa-like weapon. Instinctively, his hand reached for Hyperion, but swiped empty air instead. He had left it in her room! Cursing under his breath, he opted for Plan B: Fight his way out. Spinning around, he launched a hard left across the face of pepper-spray man. He hadn't spend a whole year street fighting for nothing, as he whipped his right foot around and kicked the gun from the policeman's hand. As he turned to face the two weaponless policemen, the officer with the tonfa hit him on the neck…hard.

Slumping to the ground, Seifer's vision faded to black.

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Quistis was having a wonderfully awful time at La Finesse. For instance, she had no idea which of the three forks was for what meal (Alec had eventually shown her after she used her dessert fork for salad) or how to pronounce anything on the menu. (Alec had ordered for them both) She found it amazing that a 50-dollar meal consisted of a small piece of meat garnished with a few sprigs of parsley. And the wine list took her 5 minutes to scroll through. She was sure of one thing – this wasn't her kind of restaurant. And Alec's polite questions were getting on her nerves.

They had been eating quietly, a quaint orchestra droning away in the corner, when a soft, but different, tune came from Alec's coat.

"You'll have to excuse me a minute, my dear, my cell phone is ringing." My dear? Quistis thought as he pressed a button to talk. This isn't the Victorian era, geez.

"You got him? Excellent." Four words and the conversation was over.

"Who was that? Who did you get?"

"Ah, nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about, Quistis. Now, shall we order dessert?"

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Ah, another chapter down. See, it isn't all kicks and giggles after all. Oh yes, the dinner date will be explained in more detail next chapter. And don't worry. I hate Alec as much as you do.

Hmm, so I think the diary part might not go over well with some people. Eh well, take the good with the bad. Roll with the punches, as I like to say.

A big thank you goes out to my loyal readers, Lain, Jack and Yuyami! And a huge thumbs-up of approval goes out to Yuyami for listening to Our Lady Peace!

I appreciate your reviews as always.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	9. Chapter Nine

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Nine**_

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_Special Author Note:_ Yeah I know, I never put these things at the top. Anyways, I'm back from the dead or whatever, I go back to school in four days, it's been a great summer.

Thanks to Jack Hanek, Yuyami no Okami, Lain of the Weird and Angel-Kinneas4, you make this fic worth writing.

In conclusion, this is sort of a rewrite. The first part (Quistis') is going over the night with Alec. In the next chapter, it will pick up after the phone call. Seifer's goes on normally.

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If modesty was air, Alec was surely suffocating by now. Quistis, still feeling like a mannequin on stilts, couldn't believe how suave and annoyingly smug Alec could be. He kept on outdoing himself with every little thing -and the limo had just pulled up to the door of La Finesse. It was going to be a _long_ night.

"Reservations, sir?" The host, complete with tuxedo and pencil-thin mustache, met them at the entrance. His voice was slightly nasal and irritating. Quistis eyed him warily - Alec wouldn't forget something like reservations, would he? She was quickly answered, as Alec swiftly pulled a card out of his jacket and handed it over. "Ah, Mr. Crowell. Come right this way."

Quistis ignored the stares that other couples and groups gave them as they walked through the restaurant. Apparently this was a high-class place, but Quistis and Alec were an example of the 'cream of the crop' – almost _too_ good for the restaurant itself.

"Here you are, Madame and sir." The host gestured towards a secluded corner of the restaurant, dimly lit by a single candle centered on the table. Rose petals adorned the top of it, shared by velvet-covered menus and crystal wine glasses. The tablecloth appeared to be satin. To top it all off, cheesy music was oozing out from the orchestra, positioned in the corner beside them.

"Thank you sir, we will be ready to order our wine in a few minutes." Alec guided her over to the table, his hand resting lightly on her waist. A few inches lower, and Quistis would've decked him. It really annoyed her how he kept pushing his limits.

"So, Quistis, how are you enjoying the evening so far?" Like sitting on a cactaur, she thought, but declined to comment, smiling and nodding instead. He accepted it without question, and proceeded to read the wine list. "What kind of wine do you prefer?" Quistis was way out of her territory on that one - her idea of drinking was a few beers or some lady drinks at the bar with Selphie and Rinoa.

"Uh…um…I think you should choose. You have good taste." Way to fuel his ego, her conscience muttered. Now he's going to be even more obnoxious than before.

"How about this…Lucien's Crimson. A full-bodied red wine crafted from premium grapes grown deep in Timber's Roshfall Forest with a crisp tangy edge. Sounds delicious, does it not?"

"Alec, it costs 400 gil for a bottle!"

"Price doesn't matter here, Quistis." He flashed a 200-watt smile across the table at her. Quistis smiled weakly. 400 gil was basicallya large grocery bill for her– what she had to live on – and here was Alec, flaunting it away on alcohol. As if I needed another reason to dislike him, she thought. "So, Quistis. Tell me about yourself." She was caught off guard by the question. What could she say to that?

"Well, I've been an instructor at Balamb Garden for several years, I'm also a SeeD and I've traveled to places like Trabia, Esthar, Deling City – even the Lunar Base. I've spent most of my life serving Garden, actually."

"You said you've been an Instructor for several years – did you, perhaps, instruct Seifer Almasy?" Quistis tensed up, pursing her lips. Where did _that_ question come from? What was he getting at?

"I did…why do you ask?"

"Ah, just wondering. I heard he was quite a rebellious student."

"He was, but what does that have to do…"

"I heard he was especially disruptive towards you."

"Well I wouldn't say that, but…"

"Didn't he try and kill you during the second sorceress war?"

"Yes, but he was possessed by Ultemicia…"

"Wouldn't you agree that he is a menace to society?"

"No, I wouldn't say that. Sources inform me that he's dead now."

"Possibly. Hopefully. He was a horrible man - personally, I hated Almasy…killing innocents for his own power. Disgusting." Quistis' face darkened. Alec sure wasn't gaining any brownie points tonight. How dare he say things like this about Seifer? She opened her mouth to argue back, but their waiter came back just in time to cut off her upcoming rant, or possibly strangling Alec.

"Sir and Madame, have you chosen your wine?" Alec tore his eyes off Quistis long enough to speak to their perplexed waiter.

"Yes, a bottle of Lucien's Crimson please." The waiter wasted no time in departing - anyone could feel the tension at that table. Once they were alone again, Alec glanced back at Quistis spitefully. "What was that you were going to say? Were you going to _defend_ Seifer Almasy?" He picked up a menu and peered over it, raising an eyebrow in defiance. It was oddly familiar.

"Well, I…"

"Listen Quistis. Seifer Almasy was a terrible man, only focused on killing and fueling his own lust for power. He never even became a SeeD, he was a rebel and a no-good criminal. Surely an intelligent woman like yourself could see that!"

Tears stung at Quistis' eyes but she refused to let this cruelly, politically correct man see her cry over a dead man. At least she thought he was dead. Alec _was_ talking about him in the past tense. And Alec knows best, her conscience drawled sarcastically.

"…I suppose he was…" This was just great. Her voice was rebelling against her heart. Her mind was telling her to be reasonable, rational – _normal_ – but her heart was telling her to be anything but that. She lowered her head, resting it on her hand. "It's all propaganda against him anyway…"

"Quistis." Alec was a master puppeteer, she was the lowly puppet, unable to react on her own free will. Falling victim to the invisible string around her neck, she really had no choice but to look him in the eye again. He smiled, with a little more compassion and less malice this time, and reached across the table to take her hand. Instinctively, she tensed up again, but let him hold it. Casting her eyes from his face to his hand, she noticed with vague amusement that this was indeed one of the few men that got routine manicures. Leave it to Alec to have the beauty agenda of a model.

"…Hmm?" She mumbled, trying to lead him away from talking about Seifer. She got the point already! Alec despised Seifer – him being a police chief and all – and apparently was very passionate about insulting him. What does he know anyway, she thought scornfully. He never knew the real Seifer. The Seifer I knew was nothing like the media-biased man that everyone seemed to hate. I just wish more people could see that…

"Quistis, obviously the mention of Seifer Almasy bothers you. Would you mind telling me why?"

"Oh…it's nothing. Forget about it." You wouldn't understand. Without a shred of empathy in you, you'd never understand anyone lesser off than you. Wait a second…he's awfully suspicious of Seifer…Wait! What if Alec knows if Seifer is alive? And I bet he knows where Sam is, too. If I can lure him into telling me where Sam is, maybe I can get to Seifer. I don't know what's going on, but if Seifer is still out there, I have to find him. No matter what – it's worth a shot anyway.

Time to put on the best act of your life, Quistis. Time to…flirt with Alec Crowell, a man who practically bathes in cologne. Quistis suppressed a chuckle as she remembered Rinoa's stern '_do not puke on your date' _lecture - Never thought I'd ever have to refer to it for anything. In all honesty, she would rather take her chances facing off against Omega Weapon then dancing with the police chief of Balamb, but it was all in the line of duty. Steeling herself, she smiled with enthusiasm that Selphie would've been proud of. "Would you like to dance, Alec? We can eat later."

The unshakable Alec Crowell was shook. And evidently, pleased - if his lit up eyes and eternally suave grin gave away anything. Rising from his seat, all the while holding her hand, he gestured to the dance floor. "May I have the honor of this dance?"

His question sounded as if he had rehearsed it endlessly, which Quistis wouldn't put past him.

Smiling on the outside but retching on the outside, Quistis followed him obediently out to the dance floor. As if on cue, the lights dimmed even further while a spotlight followed them onto the dance floor. The orchestra began to drone out what Quistis assumed to be a waltz. I'm not an exhibit! Get this spotlight off me! Her mind was screaming at her, mainly 'WHAT are you doings', but Quistis was too far in now. She couldn't spoil her new façade so quickly.

"Why, Quistis. I never knew you had this in you…" Alec whispered in her ear, resting his hand on her waist, while taking her other hand in standard waltzing format. "I must say I'm pleasantly surprised…" Yeah you would be, she thought, but continued her unwavering smile and placed her free hand on his shoulder.

"I'm just full of surprises, Alec." Oh Hyne, what just possessed me to say that? Can't get much more seductive than that – way to slut yourself up, Quistis, geez…She mentally grimaced and averted her eyes as Alec's suave grin turned lecherous. This is going to be a loooong waltz

And the waltz continued, Quistis noting that Alec was a flawless dancer, just like he was at everything else except tact. Of course, she was no slouch at it either, so to anyone else in the restaurant, they must have looked like a picture-perfect example of how the waltz was supposed to be danced. And frankly, Quistis couldn't wait for it to end.

When the music finally oozed its last notes out, the lights dimmed once more and Quistis breathed a silent sigh of relief. But just when she thought it was over, the unbelievable happened.

Everyone in the restaurant started clapping.

Letting out an inaudible groan, she forced herself to curtsy and smile for the 'audience' at Alec's cue. Alec, however, relishing in the attention, didn't hesitate and bowed gracefully. He grinned at her and stretched out a hand to lead her back to the table. Just like a dog on a leash, she thought, her face frozen in a fake smile.

"You're a wonderful dancer, Quistis. Just like I knew you'd be. I wouldn't expect anything less from you." Yeah _that's_ not creepy or anything, Alec. She laughed softly, but decided against saying anything.

"So, Quistis. What would you like to order? Feel free to order anything – it's on me." Alec then proceeded to pour the wine (which had been delivered to their table during the dance) while Quistis looked over the menu. As far as she could tell, you had to be tri-lingual to read it. And those were three languages she _didn't_ know.

"Um, Alec…what are 'Des escargots avec des ananas et la crème'?" Alec looked at her with a trace of amusement on his face.

"Snails with pineapples and cream."

"Lovely."

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Pain. The world consisted of darkness and searing pain. What kind of a world was this? What would consume him first, which would he succumb to first? Was there hope in a world like this? What was hope anyway?

"So this is Sam Liamay?"

"No, stupid. It's Seifer Almasy!"

"T-t-the Seifer Almasy? The one who could kill 100 men without blinking?"

"Doesn't look so tough now."

"Heh, that's true. Like a lowly dog! Haw haw haw!"

"Make him wake up. Remember, Alec said to interrogate him first before we call him."

"I guess I can kick him, right? Hey, wake up, fuckhead!"

The voices got continually louder, and he was ripped back to consciousness by a blinding pain in his stomach. His already weak voice barely managed a groan.

"…What…the…fuck?" He struggled to get up again, maybe fight back, but his body wouldn't cooperate. Instead, both men kicked him, causing him to skid along the ground, landing hard on his shoulder. His grunt of pain was louder this time, having found his voice. "Who the hell are you?"

Two men, one in a smart black suit, the other in a more casual black jacket – both wearing sunglasses – leered down at him. "So this is the mighty Seifer Almasy. Welcome to hell, make yourself comfortable, because there's no way you're leaving anytime soon." The suit-clad man laughed, spitting on Seifer's face.

Wrenching a hand out from under his side, he wiped his face and glared daggers at the two men, who laughed in response. "What the fuck do you want with me? I thought you guys were the Balamb Police!" The younger, casual man cracked a grin and pulled out a cigarette.

"Oh, we are. We're a special force working for Alec Crowell, the chief. We were sent to hunt down 'Sam Liamay', but also to eliminate 'Seifer Almasy'. Looks like we killed two birds with one stone! Haw haw haw!" he whipped out a lighter from his pocket, lit his cigarette, tapping the end so the ash fell on Seifer. He growled, frighteningly close to that of an animal.

"Okay, I get why you want to hunt me down as Sam Liamay. But why am I being eliminated as Seifer Almasy. My records during the Second Sorceress War were cleared – and if your boss doesn't know that he can take the legal system and shove it up his ass!"

The younger man kneeled down and flashed a yellow-toothed grin at Seifer, who recoiled in disgust. "We know that. The reason we have to get rid of you is because the boss, Alec, sees you as a threat. Your convenient alter ego just makes it so much easier for us. You see, we can do away with you, and people will think we're just getting rid of Sam Liamay – a current criminal. Even though you, Seifer, are still a murderer, we can't technically do away with you."

"So for the past little while, we've been making sure that every judge and official knows that Seifer Almasy is dead. Then all we had to do was find you and catch you. It wasn't hard, you kept returning to the same place." He paused to inhale deeply on his cigarette.

"Tell me one thing. Why does this Alec Crowell see me as a threat?"

"Haw haw haw! We know your relationship to a…certain Instructor at Balamb Garden." Seifer's eyes grew wide with fear. How long had he been in this deathtrap? How…did they know all this about him? "Quistis Trepe, I believe? Well, she is the only person who thinks you're alive – don't ask me why. Right now, Alec is using that sweet poison called propaganda on her right now. By the end of tonight, you'll be dead in her eyes."

"No…" Seifer hung his head. What was with these sick people? What did they have against him? "You didn't answer my question. Why is Alec so intent on having me dead?"

"Well, Seifer," the younger man sneered, "Alec has his eye on Quistis. You're the only one that stands in his way. So do the math. Alec + Quistis – Seifer Quistis Crowell."

"NOOOOOOOO!" He put his hands over his head. Just kill me now, he screamed mentally. What, and go down without a fight? His conscience countered. This is sick…I'd rather die then deal with this...

His conscience screamed at him in protest. What about Quistis? Do you really want that to happen to her? Are you just going to let Alec take her, fuck her, marry her? Are you going to let him take what you've always wanted?

Seifer forced his pain-wracked body upright, fire burning in jade eyes. Without a weapon, he had no chance against two men who no doubt were packing guns underneath their coats. He'd just have to wait for his chance. Yeah…like a tiger, waiting to pounce.

"So, you got a jail cell for me, or what?"

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Okay, finally put it up! I know, I'm pathetically lazy. It'll be a short note here since you already put up with one at the beginning.

Review if you want, your choice.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	10. Chapter Ten

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

**_Chapter Ten_**

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Over 1200 hits and counting. I love you guys.

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"So how was it? Was it exquisite? Was Alec a gentlemen?" Three steps into Garden, and already Quistis was being interrogated. Selphie was rushing in behind her, dragging poor Irvine behind her like a tow truck. She was talking a mile a minute and Quistis was struggling to tune it out.

"OhmyHyne Rinoa you should've been there! Quistis and Alec were dancing, and they looked perfect, right, and the music was perfect, and the food was great, but really you should've been there, it was really romantic and Irvy you should really learn to dance like Alec and OhmyHyne…"

"Remember to breathe, Selphie." Quistis interrupted tonelessly. She then started briskly walking back to her dorm, giving a languid wave in passing. She was halfway there when she felt a hand on her arm, signaling for her to stop.

"Quistis? You okay?" It was Rinoa, a rare look of concern displayed on her features. "You don't look that great…want to come to my dorm and talk about it? Selphie won't be barging in for at least another 20 minutes the way she's talking now. You left your clothes in there anyway – and I know how much you want to get out of that dress and those shoes."

It wasn't much of a sales pitch, but it sounded a little better than isolating herself in her room for three days - Quistis had never been so grateful to Rinoa in a long time. She gave her a genuine smile, and nodded. Ignoring the clicking of their three inch heels and the swishing of their satin dresses on the pristine white tile floor, she knew how much they stood out from the other students in the halls. But this time, for once, she couldn't care less.

"Ahhh…" Quistis flopped down on Rinoa's bed in sheer relief. The stilettos had found their rightful place in the wastepaper basket in the corner, and the dress was tossed carelessly on an ottoman. The plain t-shirt and jeans she wore had never felt this comfortable in their existence. "Thanks Rinoa. I think I would've died if I had to wear that outfit for any longer. I'll take my chances with Ultemicia."

Rinoa laughed, but her expression quickly turned serious again. "So how was the night? You don't seem too happy about it. Although I don't know if that's because the night was bad or because Selphie was broadcasting it to everyone within 5 miles."

Quistis sighed. Oh well, if she had to tell anyone, Rinoa was first in line. Squall would ignore her, of course. Selphie could hold a secret like a hot coal. Zell wouldn't understand most of her issues. And Irvine…well, there was nothing wrong with telling him except for the fact he was Selphie's boyfriend, and she could draw information out of him almost effortlessly.

"Well, Rinoa, what do you think of Alec?"

"He seems…charming, polite, a perfect gentleman."

"Ugh. That's it. Perfect. He's perfect at everything. And his charm is so intense, it makes me sick. He never gets angry, he never gets frustrated, he's never sad or anything – like his only emotions are content, polite, and suave." She paused. "Plus he stinks like aftershave." She added as an afterthought. Rinoa nodded sagely.

"Yeah, that sounds pretty bad. I've never actually talked to him, so I guess I haven't experienced it."

"Oh, it's bad. He even brought me to the restaurant in a limo. Then when he got there, he had to get the most secluded and romantic table possible in the restaurant. He ordered the most expensive wine and told me I could order anything on the menu. Then he asked me to dance, and – not surprisingly – never missed a step of the waltz. And you know what? Everyone in the restaurant _applauded_, I've never been so embarrassed! So I had something called Escargots or something, and it was snails with cream and pineapple – I choked it down just to make him happy! I threw up in the bathroom later, but he didn't notice when I came out. I swear, every little thing, like him putting his hands just millimeters above my ass, or whispering in my ear, just made me want to kick him in the crotch and run! Hyne, every minute I'm with that guy is like a minute in hell!"

"Wow…I don't know what to say Quistis. You'd never be able to tell from looking at him. He didn't try and kiss you goodnight or anything, did he?"

"No, thank Hyne. I didn't give him the chance, really. Just a very polite 'thank you for a nice night' and a wave before I left. I've never faked a smile so many times in one night, I swear."

"This does sound serious. Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"Well, I basically have two choices. I can either keep putting up this act and drive myself insane, or I can tell him where to shove his pompousness and leave me alone. I'm heavily favoring the second option. But I need Alec to help me get more information on Sam Liamay."

"Sam Liamay? Isn't that the guy who almost killed that pervert that was bothering you? I see him all over the news now." Rinoa had disappeared and was yelling from the kitchen. "You want anything to drink?"

"Yeah sure, a Coke'd be fine, thanks." She waited for Rinoa to return before she continued. "Anyway…I think Sam Liamay might be the same person that's been leaving the stuff in my room and cleaning it. Think about it. Didn't all these things start happening at the same time?"

Rinoa handed her the can with a thoughtful stare. "You know, you're right. Hmm, are you sure you want to keep pursuing this guy? He seems dangerous."

"I'd rather spend time with him then Alec Crowell, trust me." She shook her head. "This is all so confusing. I need Alec to help me find Sam. But I hate Alec, and I want to get to know Sam. But you know what's really weird?" Rinoa shrugged. "I get this feeling that Alec is using _me_ for something. I can't imagine what, though."

"That is weird. Well don't ask me, I don't really know what's going on myself." She proceeded to pull out a magazine from under the bed. Quistis didn't catch the title, but it was no doubt a fashion magazine of some sort.

"You know what else? Why I'm trying so hard to find Sam Liamay? I have a feeling that Sam might be…" she cut herself off before she could finish his name. However, enough had escaped to gather Rinoa's full attention.

"To who? You think Sam might be?" Quistis was looking at the floor, but could feel Rinoa's eyes boring into her, searching for an answer.

"Promise you won't laugh or anything."

"Of course I won't Quistis, I'm here to help you, not make you feel stupid." The magazine was forgotten, her interest in Quistis' issue renewed. "You can tell me anything."

"I think…Sam might be connected…might know…might be…Seifer." She hesitated, waiting for a gasp, a laugh – anything – from Rinoa. Nothing. She hastily tried to recover her composure. "Well, I think Seifer is still alive! I know he is! And I think Sam might be him. There's nothing to back it up, I just know. I just feel…" tears welled up in her eyes. "I know that everyone says Seifer is dead…maybe…maybe…I'm just lying to myself. Maybe Sam is just some complete stranger who I'm putting false hope into…so I can keep believing Seifer is out there…"

Rinoa was deathly silent, opening her mouth as if to say something, but quickly shutting it. After a few moments of silence passed, Rinoa finally spoke. "Quistis, how do you feel about Seifer?" No 'Seifer is dead, get over it'? No 'wow, you're really starting to freak me out, Quistis'? She was taken aback.

"I…I…Well, Seifer was my childhood friend. My best childhood friend. The GF's took their toll on my memory and our relationship at Garden was ruined. I was always hoping for the day where we could put our differences aside…Then the Sorceress War started…I never wanted to fight against him, but what choice did I have? Everyone said he died at the end of the war, but I refused to believe it. I guess I still force myself to believe it." Voice cracking, tears slid silently down her cheeks. Just like a teenage girl with a crush that would never go out with her. She was lying on her stomach across the bed, trailing her fingers on the carpet mindlessly.

"Quistis…Why didn't you tell me before?"

"Well, everyone thought he was dead. I didn't want to be swamped with sympathy for losing a friend, not that I would get any. Nobody liked him, everyone thinks he's better off dead anyway. He was public enemy number one."

"That's not true. He was possessed by Ultemicia during the war, we all know that! Ask Irvine, Squall, Zell or Selphie, they'll tell you the same thing. None of us bear grudges against him."

"That's all fine and dandy, but that won't bring him back." The tears were starting up again. "Nothing can."

"It's ok to cry, Quistis. Sometimes it's better to let it all out. Let's just figure out what you're going to do about you current situation. Are you going to keep trying to find Sam Liamay? Even if he's not Seifer, he seems to know what you like if the notes he left mean anything. On the other hand, that means you're still going to have to deal with Alec, you know."

"Sam Liamay is a criminal, Rinoa. And Alec is too much for me to take. I think I'll just drop out of the investigation and go about my normal teaching job at Garden." Rinoa looked at her in jaw-dropping shock.

"You can't be serious! I thought you said you felt Sam was Seifer…"

"A feeling is just a feeling, Rinoa." She chuckled sadly. "Seifer's dead. I was just lying to myself. I'll go resign from the investigation tomorrow morning…I just want everything to go back to normal." There was a fairly loud knock at the door.

Rinoa shot an empathetic glance at Quistis before going to answer the door. Quistis sighed, thumping a pillow over her head to drown out a certain brunette.

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Seify hid in the corner of Quistis' room, under the computer desk, quivering in fear. The man who had been in his owner's room had not bothered anything, and Seify trusted him. Then just a few minutes ago, 4 strangely dressed men had attacked him, and taken him away. Were they going to take him away too?

Letting out a soft whimper, the young puppy ventured out into the hall, trying to find Quistis.

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_"Seifer, Quistis, come here please!" Matron's voice rang out through the orphanage. The paper and crayons that had been previously occupying them were discarded to the floor in an instant. Waxy dragons, knights and castles were abandoned in moments. "Would you like to help me make some cookies?" Quistis was excited – she was always eager to learn something new – and Seifer tried his best to look disinterested but was failing miserably._

_"Ok, now add the eggs and milk to the dry ingredients." Matron let Seifer crack open the eggs (he used a butter knife, pretending it was a sword) and let Quistis measure out the precise amount of milk. She then let them take turns stirring, Seifer going first and sending a shock wave of flour all over Quistis._

_"Seify!" Quistis' shriek echoed through the kitchen, while Matron calmly took the bowl and continued stirring while Quistis chased Seifer around the room, hitting him with a wooden spoon._

_"Alright, now we need to spoon it out onto the cookie sheets. No, Seifer, that's a little too much…no, a little less, Seifer, don't pick the chocolate chips out of the dough…yes, that's a good size, Quistis." Seifer stuck his tongue out at Quistis, who promptly made a face back at him. They continued having their little silent facemaking squabble until the sheet was full and ready to go in the oven._

_Both Seifer and Quistis agreed on one thing. The time it took cookies to cool seemed infinitely longer then the time it took to make them. Seifer, of course, couldn't wait any longer and burned his fingers on a particularly hot cookie. Quistis waited another minute before reaching over for one._

_"How about a glass of milk you two?" Both nodded, as their mouths were full of warm chocolate chip cookie. "Now, now, only two cookies each until supper. Don't want to spoil your supper, now do you?" It only took 5 seconds of Seifer's and Quistis' best 'bambi-eyes' for her to give in and let them each have another cookie. "Alright, three is it. We have to leave some for the others." Matron smiled warmly and watched them scoot off to the beach, crumbs on their shirts and fading milk mustaches on their upper lips._

"_Oh, those two. If one or the other is by their self, they're almost uncontrollable. But put them together, and they're inseparable…"_

"Ah, Mr. Almasy. What a pleasant surprise. Or should I say Sam Liamay?"

Seifer's light, and pleasant sleep was broken by a strange voice echoing in the nearly empty room he was locked in. A shadowed silhouette stood in the doorway, the only source of light. Seifer began to stand up and was about to shout a sarcastic comment about the hospitality, but was cut off by realization they had not only locked him in this dark room, they had chained him while he had slept. He strained his wrists and ankles against the cold steel.

"Bastard. What the hell do you want? You're Alec, aren't you?"

"Hmm, it appears your temperament is as filthy as your appearance. You'll learn very quickly to respect me around here." The man was tall, with dark hair and molten amber eyes. He was wearing a tuxedo, which seemed a little more than out of place in the dingy cell.

"You seem very full of yourself for just being a Balamb police officer." Seifer snarled through gritted teeth. He was rewarded with a hard backhand across the face.

"Remember what I said about respect, scum? The lesson is only beginning." He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small, black object. Seifer's eyes widened as he recognized the instrument as a taser gun immediately. Haunting memories flitted through his mind as he saw Squall chained to the wall, helpless as he applied wave after wave of powerful electricity over the young man's body. Life was ironic like that - it was his turn now. He looked back at Alec with grim defiance. Like hell he was going to let Alec see fear in his eyes.

"Relax, you worthless piece of shit. It's not your fault you have no idea who you're dealing with." Alec put the taser back into his pocket. "I'm not going to kill you…yet. So get comfortable, it's storytime. You listen to me…you survive. You ignore me, you talk back to me, you threaten me at all…you die. Get it?" The pleasant accent and attitude were long gone, and there was only a coldhearted and cruel man. It was frighteningly similar to a former form of himself.

Seifer braced himself. This was for Quistis. This was one trial that would take all the strength he ever had to make it through…

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Quistis sat alone in a secluded corner of the cafeteria. It was early, 6:00 am, and the huge, normally packed room was almost deserted. She had stayed in Rinoa's room last night, and they had stayed up for hours talking about Seifer, Sam and Alec. She had crept out of the room as not to wake Rinoa, and had retired to the only place where she could get some true peace and quiet.

Companioned by her mug of coffee, she thought about her current choices. Was it really worth it to put up with Alec just to find out Sam was some loser, like a 20-some year old boyfriend that would break your car and make you pay for it? Sighing, she took another long sip of coffee. It would be nice just to go back to teaching classes again. It was settled, she would drop the investigation and never hear from pompous Alec or Sam Liamay again. It was the easy way out.

The sound of a chair scraping across from her caused her to look up from her aimless stirring. To her surprise, it was Squall. Emotionless as always, he made no indication of what he wanted as he carefully took a seat. He was dressed in his Commander's uniform, so Quistis knew instantly it was strictly about business.

"Squall. What brings you into this neck of the woods?" She downed the rest of her coffee and looked him straight into the eye. "What, did I get fired or something?"

The stone grey eyes didn't reflect anger, amusement or annoyance. Like talking to a concrete wall. A walking, talking, completely oblivious concrete wall. "Listen, I'm not really in the mood to talk to a rock this morning, come back when you're human." Again, he didn't make any reaction to her comments.

He handed her a piece of paper. "Read it." And with two words, he was gone. Now in almost total shock, she unfolded the piece of paper.

_A Dormitory is a Dirty room._

_A Schoolmaster lives in The Classroom._

_A Dictionary is Indicatory._

_So Try to figure out this Story._

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Eyyy, look, I'm back already. Fancy that.

Anyways, I'm pretty happy with this, it was fun to write, and if anyone disagrees, I'll throw yams at them (don't think I've ever eaten yams, actually)

Yuyami no Okami, Lain of The Weird and of course Jack Hanek…I owe a great deal of thanks to you all for reviewing constantly. You get Juusan Ikkiuchi's official thumbs up of approval.

Now I'm actually a roll, woot, I'm having a blast with this story…mostly because I really hate Alec! Thought I'd throw in a little flashback thing and a little Seify scene because I've been neglecting them as of late.

Your reviews are always appreciated!

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi

(By the way Jack Hanek, I've been working on this a lot, so the other pics are a little delayed. At least I finished Grave, huh?)


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

**_Chapter Eleven_**

_It was a cold winter's evening. A soft blanket of snow covered the ground, untouched and pristinely white. Frost was sketched in intricate designs without patterns on the windowpanes. Inside the orphanage, the air was chilly, and the floor was colder - all of the kids were huddled around the woodstove, rubbing their hands and sipping mugs of steaming hot chocolate, while Matron handed around a hot supper of pancakes and syrup to their eager hands. Quistis and Seifer were huddled under a thick quilt, for once not fighting when they were in such a close proximity. They were talking quietly between mouthfuls of food._

_"Hey Quisty, want to go play in the snow after this?"_

_"I don't know, Seifer. It's really cold out." She shivered for emphasis. However, he wouldn't have any of it._

_"C'mon, Quisty. I bet you're scared, aren't ya? You chicken?" The magic words. Quistis could never resist one of Seifer's challenges, and this was no exception._

_"Fine, you're on. I challenge you to a snowball fight!"_

_The duo tossed the warm blanket aside (Zell snatched it for himself soon after) and scampered off to find some winter clothes, while the rest of the orphanage gang shrugged it off and returned to their nice, warm meal in front of the toasty fire. Only crazy people went outside when it was this nice inside. Matron asked Ellone to watch over Zell, Irvine, Squall and Rinoa while she watched Seifer and Quistis from the living room window._

_Waddling out into the waist deep snow, looking like the Michelin man in their snowsuits, Seifer and Quistis reveled in the crisp white powder. While Quistis was particularly entranced by the snow falling from the night sky, Seifer took the opportunity to shove her into a nearby snowbank. _

"_Seifer!" The screech echoed over the snowy fields. Enraged, cheeks dark pink from the stinging snowflakes, Quistis launched herself out of the snowbank and plowed into Seifer. They both toppled over in the opposite snowbank, Seifer's laugh ringing through the clear night. They lay there for a minute of two, both winded for the moment. Seifer's eyes were a bright jade, even they seemed to be gleaming with silent laughter. Quistis, all anger gone, was laying beside him, trying to dig snow out of her hood._

"_Quisty?" Seifer's laugh had quieted, and he had stretched out in the snow lazily._

"_Mmm?" Quistis relaxed as well, and started making a snow angel. "What is it?"_

"_Thank you." It didn't need a reason behind it, it didn't need an explanation. Quistis didn't expect one. It was just one of those things that was naturally understood._

Students came and went through the cafeteria, although her corner of the room remained abandoned since Squall's departure. Her eyes drifted back to the scrap of paper in front of her.

_A Dormitory is a Dirty room._

_A Schoolmaster lives in The Classroom._

_A Dictionary is Indicatory._

_So Try to figure out this Story._

It was a simple rhyme, really. But what was it trying to tell her? Was a 'schoolmaster' Cid? Herself? Maybe it was supposed to be her, because Cid certainly didn't live in a classroom. And what did a dormitory have to do with anything? Could this tie in with her mystery visitor? And what was up with the Dictionary? Just when she thought she was getting out of this whole mess, a little slip of paper had to pitch her right back in.

"Hey, what's up?" Her second surprise of the morning arrived with a double serving of hot dogs. Zell, hair still glistening from freshly applied gel, sat down across from her with gusto, rattling her coffee mug. She raised her eyebrows in question, but said nothing."Hey, you want a hot dog?" He waved the steaming 'meat' in front of her face. Her stomach turned in protest. Oh well, even during all this confusion, some things didn't change. "Huh? Oh, I forgot you hate them. Sorry. Hey...anything wrong? You seem kinda down about something."

"Okay, I'm kind of stuck in a situation. Do you know who Sam Liamay is?" Zell nodded as he drizzled ketchup on the hotdogs - Quistis wished she knew the secret behind his early-morning stomach of steel. "Well, I'm on the case to find him. But I want to get out of it. This pompous guy named Alec Crowell, who also happens to be the chief of police, is supposedly 'helping me out'."

"Supposedly? You mean he isn't? Heyyy, I think I've seen that guy around Garden. I was walking to my dormitory, right, and I saw him standing around with some fancy-pants guys. They weren't officers, but they sure looked professional. One of them was wearing a black sportcoat, the other had a black jacket. They were talking about Sam Liamay, I think." He paused to chug his orange juice, then took an enormous bite out of a second hotdog. If anyone else had bit off that much they would've choked. It's a wonder Zell wasn't.

"Anyway. These guys were setting up some little security cameras. Or at least, that's what I think they were doing. One of them said that they knew the other cameras were going in for maintenance the next day, so they wanted to install some backup ones. I find it pretty weird that they were focusing on the dorms and nowhere else, y'know? Like they knew Sam was going to be there or something. Weird, huh?"

"Yeah…yeah it is weird Zell." This put a whole new light on the matter. According to what Zell saw, Alec was hiding some vital information from her. But why? Was there something he didn't want her to find out? "I got this paper, it's supposed to somehow relate to Sam Liamay but I can make heads or tails of it. Can you?" Zell, having polished off the plate of hotdogs, wiped the crumbs off his lap and took the piece of paper from her hands. Squinting, his eyes flitted back and forth, reading the words, a perplexed look on his features. A few minutes passed before he said a word.

"Well, what do you think it means?" The tone in his voice hinted that he had some theories about it himself, but he was hesitating.

"I think it's saying something about the school. Maybe that Sam Liamay lives in Garden? Maybe he was a previous student, or a Instructor?"

"I think it's a little more than that."

"What?" Since when had Zell surpassed her in perception? Was she, Quistis Trepe, losing her touch? What was hidden in those four short lines that she was missing? It wasn't like this was an epic Shakespearian sonnet, there didn't seem to be much to it. "What do you mean by that?"

Zell gave her a lopsided smile. "I know you're capable of figuring it out on your own. I know enough, so naturally you know more. You can figure it out. Just think. There's more to it than just recognizing the words." And with that, he left her alone again. What was up with people today? Was she the only person who didn't understand something? Was she left out of something? And how the hell did Zell know more than she did?

That's mean, she thought to herself. Zell's grown up a lot the past year, you have to give him credit for that. He's changed...but maybe you haven't. Sighing, she got up from the table and headed back towards the dormitories. It was Monday morning, and she had a precious hour before her classes began. And of course she had no lesson plan prepared.

All right, I can handle this…we'll do cryptography. Yeah, that can always come in handy, plus I don't need to photocopy anything or prepare anything beforehand. Quistis is back in control. I won't let a small puzzle stop me.

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Seifer was in hell. There was no other explanation. Alec was the devil himself, forcing him to listen by any means necessary. If he turned his head to the side, Alec would punch him in the face. If he looked down, Alec would punch him in the temple, causing his vision to turn black for minutes at a time. The only reason he was fighting was not only in defiance, but because the words hurt more than the punches.

"So, Seifer. Now that we've finished talking about your heinous acts during the Second Sorceress war, let's talk about a certain Balamb Garden Instructor…"

"Bastard." It was mumbled, but Alec heard enough to understand. He balled his hand up into a fist and shot it straight at Seifer's nose. A snap was heard, and blood gushed down his face and shirt. Seifer let out a cry of pain, then looked up in rage and disgust as Alec flashed him a malicious grin.

"Struck a chord, have we? Don't know why you like that bitch. The only reason I'd ever like her is because of her body. Bet she'd be good in bed, huh?"

Seifer shut his eyes, trying to control his anger and pain. How dare he disgrace Quistis, degrade her…

"I'll even bet you I could seduce her. Easily too." He snapped his fingers. "I could get her into my bed like that." Seifer gritted his teeth, seething with fury. "After all, she seemed to enjoy my company last night." His eyes widened in surprise, and he forgot his code of silence.

"W-what?"

"Ahahah, yes that's right. We spent a lovely evening together. She was a little cold at first, but she warmed to me by the end of the night. Of course, I don't love her. It just seems a shame for such a good body to go to waste. Stupid girl, she's been single for the past two years – waiting for _you_." He added with particular disgust. "Not for long. She's going to be mine."

Seifer was in shock. She had really been waiting for him? And she really went to dinner with this creep? She must not know anything about this guy, she's just as helpless as I am…he thought sadly. The rage that he had been holding back was bubbling to the surface. It erupted out of him seconds later.

"YOU FUCKING MONSTER! DO YOU THINK YOU CAN JUST 'OWN' SOMEONE! QUISTIS IS WORTH MORE THAN A HUNDRED OF YOU COULD EVER BE! I DON'T KNOW WHO YOU ARE, BUT I SWEAR TO HYNE I'M GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOU FOR THIS!" His eyes were a uncontrollable blaze, muscles taught and straining against the chains, blood spraying to the floor. Alec took a step back. His façade faltered for a moment – this was no normal man in front of him. This was a human pushed to their very limit. And it could strike fear in any living creature.

He regained his composure, narrowing his eyes, his own anger rising to the surface. "You, Seifer Almasy, are in no position to be threatening me. To answer your question, I can own someone. And I will. But don't worry," he drawled sarcastically and cruelly. "I'll keep you updated." He pulled the taser gun out from his pocket and adjusted the voltage carefully. "Now it's time to pay for your defiance. Don't worry, I won't kill you. It's just enough for you to realize you're below me. And you always will be, you filthy mutt." And with that, he struck Seifer with the taser.

Unimaginable pain. His vision flashed black and white, as his body was wracked with agony. He vaguely heard Alec's sickening laugh as he crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

"Yes…that's right Seifer. Let your anger control you. Once you've lost all hope, then our project will really begin…"

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"Alright class, settle down." The excited chattering dampened to a quiet murmur throughout the room. "Today we'll be studying cryptography and codes, an essential part of becoming a SeeD. We'll cover number codes, as well as basic code making. To finish it off, we'll do a small activity with combat signals. Alright?" The students nodded enthusiastically, which was oddly surprising because they usually didn't like non-fighting topics. "Great. Now who can tell me the difference between a code and a cipher?" A male student near the back raised their hand. "Yes?"

"Codes substitute groups of letters or figures for words, phrases or even complete concepts, ciphers replace every individual letter of every word."

"Very good. Someone's been doing research. Alright, why are ciphers often easier to crack?" The student next to him raised his hand to answer.

"Ciphers are vulnerable to letter frequency."

"Excellent." Quistis turned to the board and wrote down a single line of text.

G XZGAST VL STBD GL LFJSTW GL FOZ LSBKVZJ.

"Now, the first step to cracking a cipher is to target the most common letters in English. These are E, T, A, O, and N. If we use the principle of 'letter frequency', the letter that came up most often would represent E. The second most common letter would be T and so on. Using this, common words usually show up. However, I've made this example different to make it a little harder. Letter frequency won't work very well with this phrase. In the next five minutes – speed is essential in any mission - I want you to try and solve it. Remember to corner out the one letter words and work from there."

The class went smoothly for the next 45 or so minutes, the student adapted well to the number codes and handled them almost effortlessly. Finally, with five minutes left in class, a female student raised her hand to ask a question.

"Yes, what is it?"

"You didn't cover anagram codes, Instructor Trepe."

"Anagram codes? Oh, yes. Well, anagram codes are basically phrases and quotes formed by switching the letters in every word around. They're often the easiest codes to break, so they aren't used very often. In fact, Gardens stopped using them about a decade ago." Satisfied with her answer, the student continued packing up. The bell rang a minute later, and Quistis was left alone at her desk again. Sighing with relief, she gathered up her papers. It felt like she hadn't been teaching for years.

_A dormitory is a dirty room._

Anagram codes.

_A Schoolmaster lives in The Classroom._

Letters rearranged.

_A Dictionary is Indicatory._

Forming a different word.

_So Try to figure out this Story._

They were all anagrams. Something was an anagram…and she had to figure it out. That was what they were trying to tell her! Attention and energy surged back into her as she tackled the puzzle with new hope. She settled back down into her chair, mind running like a well-oiled machine.

Sam Liamay.

Her trained eyes studied the word, trying to pick out small words, or common letter combinations. The outside world was pushed aside.

I.

I am.

I am Sam…

I am Al?

I am….I am….

I am….

_I am Almasy._

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Yes, I know, took me a little while to update. You'll all live, I'm sure.

A huge thanks out to Ultimate Sorceress, Aaron, Jack, Lain and Yuyami no Okami, as well as Ai ne Shenlong no Miko. I don't believe in pulling any punches either, but I do believe any reviewer should get credit and thanks.

Yes, a cliffhanger. Could've avoided that if I had the work ethic to boost this chapter up by another 500 words, but you guys know me well enough that I'm far too lazy to do that.

Anyone who can figure out the cipher will get my official thumbs up of approval.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

_**Chapter Twelve**_

Hey, I've got an idea! Why don't I respond to the reviewers up here instead! It's so obvious!

**Jack Hanek:** Aha, just the reaction I was hoping for! Sorry about your drawings, btw, life has just been hectic – I've been trying! Anyway, thanks for the constant comments and stuff. Rock on.

**Lain of the Weird:** Yeah, I'm awesome like that, lol. Don't worry about Alec. He'll get his just rewards. (Insert evil laugh track here)

**Angel-Kinneas4:** Thanks for the great review. Just in case anyone was interested, the cipher said, "A weapon is only as strong as the soldier."

**Yuyami no Okami:** So much flattery! I like your style. And thanks for the luck comment, I have a feeling I'll need it.

**Frost:** You're perceptive, good stuff. Anyway, thanks a lot for the review, I'm glad you're tuning in for every chapter, I appreciate it!

Okay, now to start the story.

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Like a ferocious waterfall, emotions came pounding down on Quistis relentlessly. Anger, leading the way, clouded her vision with shades of red. Why the _hell _didn't Seifer just come straight up and tell her he was still alive? What was the whole business with the visits, the notes and the gifts? Why did he need a fake identity – and why, instead of maiming an everyday pervert in front of her, couldn't he have just said 'Hi?' It could've saved her a lot of stress and himself a lawsuit!

Alec – now what the fuck was up with that jerk? It was fairly obvious that he knew who Sam was the whole time – she should have caught the hint at dinner…But why the grudge? And why was he pulling her into this whole thing? Was Seifer working for Alec in some secret mission? Was Alec using Seifer to get to her – but why would he want her anyway? He was just a police chief, nothing more.

Energy revived, Quistis resolved to get to the bottom of this. But first, she resolved to get a fresh cup of coffee. Might as well make suremy dorm wasn't bombed or anything whileIwas gone the past few nights -and while I'm at it, I should get something for this impending headache, she thought. I can tell already this is going to confuse the hell out of me. Taking a left at the exit of the cafeteria, she headed towards the dorms, crumpling the piece of paper in her hand and ignoring anything in front of her. (Several cadets and student were jumping out of her collision course)

She raised her eyebrows in surprise when the door opened at the slightest touch. Okay, yeah, I'm seriously going to have to look into that lock, she made a mental note to herself. Closing the door behind her, she headed towards the kitchen, caffeine sensors activated. Let's see…this problem appears to be of 4-mug caliber…Just to be safe, I'll put in enough water for 6 mugs. Like an unconscious reaction, her hands reached for the can of coffee grinds and scooped out an exact amount. Some people ran their lives by a clock, Quistis' life ran by a coffeemaker.

She flopped down on her bed, listening to the rhythmic bubbling of the coffee in progress. Rolling over, she grabbed a pillow and clung to it. Why did life have to be so confusing? Why couldn't people be honest? Hell, she couldn't even be honest to herself.

Seifer couldn't be honest enough to tell her he hadn't died, Alec couldn't be honest enough to tell her what the hell his intentions were…Tear welled up in her eyes, followed by a few small sniffs.

"What the…" She sniffed the pillow a few more times. They definitely smelled different. It had the lingering scent of something earthy, like a beach, or a crisp fall evening. And it was positively intoxicating. In a good way, not like Alec's aftershave.

Quistis froze mid-sniff. Realization hit her like a ton of bricks. If her bed smelled different, then somebody else was sleeping in it. Geez, _that_ wasn't creepy or anything. Ok Quis, you really need to get that lock fixed. Crazy guys are waltzing into your room, sleeping in your bed, probably jacking off or something. This is just lovely. Then again, it could've been Sam, um, Seifer in your bed. I know that he was arrested last night – Mr. Suave couldn't cover that up – but I was never actually in my room that whole day. If it was Seifer that was doing all that stuff…But what Zell said, about Alec setting up those cameras, that pretty much verifies it. Besides, only Seifer would remember that my favorite flowers are violets. Not quite sure how he figured out I'm addicted to coffee, or how to complete my report on Shumi Technology, but I won't complain.

A bark interrupted her thoughts. She peered over the edge of the bed and Seify took the opportunity to jump on her face eagerly. "Ahh what the – Seify!" The small puppy licked her face with endless stamina. "Hey boy, how're you doing? I hope Selphie remembered to feed you like I asked her to!" He responded by batting her in the nose with his paw. "Aww, you're so cute!" She giggled in spite of herself and the situation. "You know, you're exactly who I need to see! C'mere and snuggle with me." Wriggling in beside her, he yawned with a contentedness that only a puppy could achieve and dozed off. Quistis reached over him to grab a pen from her dresser and pulled out her diary from under the pillow. Careful to avoid elbowing Seify in the face, she turned to a fresh page and started writing.

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"So, how long have you been tracking me?" Bloodied, bruised, and losing hope, Seifer's voice was weak and tired. His hair was matted and filthy, face openly battered, eyes dull and lifeless, clothes torn and a hideous shade of bloody brown-red.

"Oh, a few months. We've been keeping a close eye on you. Of course, we suffered one casualty that day in Balamb…" Alec was still pristinely neat and tidy, wearing a three-piece suit and smoking – making sure to blow the smoke in Seifer's face, of course.

"That pervert was working for you?" Seifer couldn't find the energy to fight back. He knew he could only survive without water for another day or so, so it was only a matter of time before he died in this hellhole anyway.

"Precisely. Now, I have a few questions for you. If you answer them all, you will get food and drink. Good deal, is it not?"

"Ok, fine."The longer he could survive here, the longer he could hold out to see Quistis again and escape. "Fire away." His frail voice frightened him.

"It's nice to see we're agreeing for once, hmm?" The smug smile didn't quit. Seifer ached to punch it, but felt like he couldn't lift his arm if he wanted to. He was nothing without Hyperion. Screw that, he was nothing without Quistis. And now he'd practically lost her forever…to this asshole. "Okay, number one. How many years of military experience do you have?"

"Ten."

"What weapons can you use?"

"Gunblade. Any standard or sniper rifles. Rocket launchers, machine guns. You name it." Alec looked at him thoughtfully.

"Any piloting experience?"

"Piloted a Galbadian XC85 fighter for about a half year." Alec stroked his chin, as if mentally weighing his options. Seifer sunk down into the floor as his stomach panged with hunger. He had never, in his whole life, felt so low.

"Alright, this is the last question. Answer it, and you may eat. How many people, estimated, have you killed?"

Seifer was quiet for a few moments. Visions of Hyperion mercilessly slashing through flesh and bone, his right arm casting vicious spells of fire and pain on helpless soldiers. The grim battlefield, strewn with monster, soldier and civilian carcasses. The howling of a fighter plane as it crashed to the ground in an explosion of sulphur and flames. Blood, screams, smoke…death. Like a black suffocating cloud, they consumed and suffocated his mind. Looking Alec straight in the eye, his own clouded jade eyes reflected sorrow, anger and regret.

"I've killed hundreds of people. And I remember every single one of them, so none of their lives are taken in vain."

The words were cold, and Alec was visibly shaken. But if he was shaken, once again it didn't last long. "I see. Well, you've answered the questions, so you get to survive another day. Your food and drink will be here shortly." And with one last cold stare, he left Seifer alone, with nothing to accompany him but the chains that bound his arms and legs, and faint thoughts in his head.

Oh, Quistis. If only you were here with me, none of this would bother me. I could be your knight – I could be strong enough…

"How did the questioning go, Mr. Crowell?"

"It appears our subject does have a few flaws, but that's nothing we can't change. Inform Quistis Trepe that I would like to meet with her tonight. And make sure she accepts."

"Understood, sir."

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_Today Seifer came back to me. In the middle of the cafeteria, he picked me up in swung me around in his manly arms. He then continued to proclaim his undying love for me, and we shared the most wonderful kiss…_

Like hell that would ever happen, Quistis thought as she scribbled in her diary. It was more for humor than anything, but there was secret longing inside of her that wished it did happen and that it wasn't a straight out lie. She flipped the pencil over and furiously erased the last paragraph, flicking the eraser shavings off the edge of the bed. Let's try that again.

_Today I found out Seifer was alive. And with this realization comes a barrage of questions. Although I do know one thing: Alec isn't what he says he is. (I know he's an complete asshole, though.) There's so many unanswered questions…_

_Where was Seifer all this time?_

_Where is he now?_

_What are Alec's intentions?_

_Will I ever see Seifer again?_

…

_Why do I care so much about Seifer? He only treated me like dirt during our years at Balamb Garden. He was only protecting me that day in Balamb._

_Protecting me…just like those days back in the orphanage. I remember when the bite bugs attacked that day when we were at the beach. They weren't very strong, but Seifer held them off with just a broken 2 by 4. He was all cut and bruised up after that, and I remember taking care of him with Matron. He kept asking if I was okay, not really caring about himself._

_Arg, I hate those damn GF's! Sure they helped us defeat Ultemicia, but the loss of memory had severe consequences. Just imagine how different things could have been between Seifer and I…Instead of having a bitter student-teacher relationship, we could have been good friends again, or closer._

_I know I'm probably starting to sound like a broken record. I know I've said all this stuff before, but this time I'm really starting to realize how serious the situation is now. I have the chance now, to find Seifer, apologize, and start over from where our childhood left off. I don't care whether he's a criminal. Below that, he's the arrogant (and incredibly sexy) Seifer who matched my wits step for step, and under that he's still Seify, the brave little boy that I fell in love with._

_Whoah, back up. Fell in love with? Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, I love that crazy arrogant jerk. Too bad I have no idea where to start looking for him. But I know who to start with. And that's my real problem. Seifer, you had better damn be well worth putting up with the Supreme Mr. Snob-and-Suave._

_People do crazy things when they're in love, huh?_

"Huh. Well, what do you think Seify? Think it's worth it?" She put down the book and scratched behind his ears. He peered up at her, blinked, and yipped assuredly. "Well it's settled then. This evening, I'll give our dear enemy Alec a call."

Seify jumped off the bed, and started sniffing under it, pawing at the dust ruffle.

After putting away her diary back under her pillow for safekeeping, she finally noticed Seify's actions and joined him down on the floor. "Hey, what's up Seify? What do you have there?" The puppy whined in response. "Is there something under the bed?"

She reached under the bed and gasped in surprise when her fingers brushed cold metal. Groping around, she found something to hold onto and pulled it out. It was the one thing that could confirm her suspicions and ignite hope in her heart. The light glinted off the black lustrous metal like a flash of an old smirk she used to know.

Hyperion.

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Seifer struggled against his chains for the 50th time that day. The food and water had made him feel like a new person – or at least not a zombie – and had refueled his urge to escape. The hope of escaping, and dreaming about the childhood memories that hadn't slipped from his mind were the only things that kept him sane.

"Mr. Almasy." Seifer turned his head reluctantly towards the sickeningly suave voice that he had grown to hate. He eased back against the wall, letting the chains go slack.

"Mr. Crowell. What do you want?" Alec was unaffected by Seifer's rough tone, instead he completely ignored it and lit another cigarette. He tapped the end so the ash fell into Seifer's beyond-dirty hair.

"Why, your training begins today. You _will_ obey, by the way." Leaning down, he clipped a metal band around Seifer neck, no small feat considering Seifer was resisting with everything he had. Finally, it snapped into place, and a small red light appeared. "Now, this is to keep you in line. Tell me, have you ever heard about shock training dogs?" He paused for Seifer to budge his head a little, which he accepted as a nod. "Well guess what. You're going to be shock trained, _mutt_."

Seifer gave Alec a glare that would melt lead. He was about to curse him out, but he also didn't really want to find out the voltage on the collar. "…"

"Just think! I, Alec Crowell will be the one to break Seifer Almasy's spirit! Oh, what an honor!" He grinned maliciously and pulled out a key, while Seifer grimaced in pure hatred. "Now, let's get you out of those chains. And don't even bother hitting me, or trying to escape. You touch me, and the collar goes off. You try to leave this room before me, and that collar will shock you to within an inch of your life."

Seifer, notliking the odds., attempted to change the subject. "So what am I going to be training with, anyway?"

"Well, I suppose since you won't be seeing civilization for a while, you might as well know where you are and what you'll be doing. You, Seifer Almasy, are 1 mile under the city of Balamb. Where exactly, I can't tell you...yet." He paused to smirk at Seifer's expression. "And we're training you…to become the ultimate weapon. We will make you….immortal, in a sense." Seifer couldn't stand it anymore.

"Oh HELL no, there's no way you can make me do that!" He was rewarded with a vicious punch to the side of his face. Wincing in pain, he forced himself to look at the cruel man in front of him.

"Would you be willing to die in resistance?"

"…It's a hell of a lot better than what you're offering now…" Seifer growled. It was bad enough he was being treated like a dog, but making him into some sort of freak weapon was tripping the line. Goodness knows, he'd probably end up fighting Garden again…Fighting Quistis again. Surely death was better.

Alec, with a tilted grin, pulled a picture out of his pocket. It was Quistis…but at the same time it wasn't. She was in a flattering dark red evening gown, and she was nothing short of breathtaking. Why the hell was she dressed up like that…and why the fuck did Alec have this picture?

"Oh really. Would you be willing to let _Quistis Trepe_ die in your resistance…?"

Turning his head away, Seifer slumped in defeat and said nothing. "That's better. Now be a good soldier and march this way. Oh, better let me go first. We don't want you to have an unnecessary shocking, now would we?" He chuckled nastily and opened the door.

Seifer, having zero to nil choices, followed silently – his mind going double time. He resolved to himself, that no matter what drugs they put him on, what magic they used on him or what machine they made him use…he would never harm Quistis.

Never again. He'd already made too many mistakes already.

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Alright, I'm bracing myself for all those who think the storyline is overdosing on clichés.

All I ask is not to judge it so quickly, ok?

Other than that, school has been a real drag…and I really don't like computer programming. But Art has been rocking, so it's all good. I've never appreciated weekends so much. Well, the ones where I don't have to work.

Ahaha, as always, your reviews are appreciated. I've noticed a declining number of chapter hits though, which kind of worries me and makes me wonder if it's worth continuing.

Ah, what the hell. If I have a few constant reviewers, page hits don't matter.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

**_Chapter Thirteen_**

Just to prove I haven't died.

**Yuyami No Okami:** Thank you, thank you, thank you! I appreciate your constant reviews and hope you'll keep reviewing my future chapters.

**Jack Hanek:** The coffee addiction was kind of a play on my own Coke addiction,(I remember every morning when I went to work in the summer, the first thing I'd do was go down to the coke machine and get one for the morning. I'd usually have one for lunch and in the afternoon too.) I've since curbed the habit a little…Didn't realize I was copying someone else's ideas, though. I kind of thought if I made her a 'coke' addict people would get the wrong idea, heh. As for the Nintendogs thing, lol, not they're not related at all. I have a husky named Kiba, but not a Seify. As for the pics, my email account has been down and I've been trying to get it up and running again so I can send them.

**Lain of the Weird:** You bet it's fun!

**Wyvern Ryder:** I'm hurrying, hopefully chapter 14 will come a lot quicker than this one did.

**Dead like You:** Yeah I know what you mean. Thanks for reviewing, and for the 'well-written' comment.

**Aaron:** Ah, suspense. I don't know whether to add more or ease off it. (ponders) Maybe I'll just keep it the same. Don't die on me, now!

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"Good afternoon, Ms. Trepe." In perfect harmony, the class eerily greeted her the second she walked in the door. Quistis eyed them warily as she crossed the room and sat down at her desk. She had no afternoon lesson plan, and was planning to wing it the entire hour and a half. Looks like it'll be another combat class again, she thought tiredly. The last one she had worn her arm out from snapping the whip so much. After the war, her combat had been very limited outside of her personal training.

"Uh, good afternoon students. Who can tell me what we covered last combat class?" The class whispered excitedly amongst themselves. It was no secret that they enjoyed the combat classes more than the boring textbook and strategy classes. A student near the front raised her hand. Quistis nodded in the student's general direction.

"We were practicing parrying long distance, non-firearm weapons Instructor Trepe."

"Ah yes, parrying. I believe I was using the whip that day?"

"Don't you always use the whip, Instructor Trepe?" The voice belonged to a notorious Trepie, who sat in the 'keener' row, right in the center. Quistis smiled a little.

"No, today I won't be using the whip," she paused as a murmur spread through the classroom, and waited for it to die down before continuing. "You will be learning close-range parrying today. If you could all _quietly_ go to the training center, I will meet you there in a minute. Alright, go on." She stepped aside as a veritable stampede of students hustled by her. Walking over to an electronic closet beside her desk, she punched in a code and pulled out a sleek black gunblade case. Opening it up, she ran her hands along the lush velvet interior, which cradled the exquisite gunblade inside. The case didn't do justice to the sword (and also was fitted for a standard B-Garden gunblade) so she had refinished the inside. She never knew she could sew so well before, but she has spent a good hour or so rearranging the stuffing. She pulled out the cleaning cloth and wiped it down the blade, for about the 4th time that day. Seifer must have done the same thing…the blade had nicks, but was virtually spotless. He might not have paid much attention in class, but had certainly cared for his weapon like it was his own child.

Sighing, she closed the case and locked it. She wasn't a half-bad gunblader, but she wasn't even in the same league as Seifer - so she could hardly do justice to Hyperion as its wielder, either. Making sure to lock the classroom door, she strode out into the halls, feeling foreign while carrying the heavy case…a huge change from carrying a whip at her belt. Might as well give it a shot, she thought. I'll just consider it a tribute…A tribute from an Instructor to a beloved student…albeit not at the time, but a beloved student nonetheless.

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"Mr. Almasy, would you care to see the weapon you'll be using?" Alec led Seifer into a dark room, lit only by red neon lights lining the edges and corner lights. He opened a keypad and tapped out a code until it beeped loudly. A panel in the wall opened, and Alec eyed its contents with satisfaction. Seifer couldn't see what was in it, but he could see the smirk on Alec's face so he assumed he wasn't going to enjoy it.

"I use no weapon but Hyperion." Growling deep in his throat, he faced Alec. He realized that he equaled Alec in height and build (hey, he'd been chained to that stupid wall for long enough), but with that stupid collar, attacking him would be suicide.

"Well I guess that's about to change. Speaking of change, remind me to get you a change of clothes. And maybe a shower…you really stink." Alec wrinkled his nose is disgust. Seifer glared at him and shrugged it off, not wanting his anger level to rise anymore. "But for now, here's your weapon, Sovereign Chaos."

Sovereign Chaos? What kind of a weapon could _that_ be? Probably some sissy weapon, nothing big and solid and deadly…Seifer narrowed his eyes and forced the words out carefully. "What the _hell_ is that?"

"Watch your language, Mr. Almasy. I'll let it slide this time. Anyway, here you go, the strongest one-soldier weapon we have. I present to you, Sovereign Chaos." It was the last kind of weapon Seifer expected to use.

It was a whip. A freakin' whip. Seifer vaguely remembered Quistis' whip, Save the Queen (he always wondered where she got that name, seemed like a stupid name for something that was made mostly of gross Malboro parts) and noticed it was almost identical. Although instead of that sickly yellow color, it was a lethal lustrous black.

Seifer plucked it out of Alec's hands and studied it closely. It was about three-quarters of the weight of Hyperion, but the metal was just as smooth and dark. It stretched out a good 5 feet, and consisted of 10 metal links. When Seifer slid his finger along the edge of a link, he found it was razor sharp. Seifer has never used one before, but he had heard of sword-whip hybrids. This was obviously one. The handle was good and solid, about a foot long, and 1.5 inches in diameter. There were several empty sockets in it, and it looked like something could be plugged into them. Seifer didn't want to know what.

Overall, it was a decent weapon. It had to be the Hyperion of all whips. Of course, he didn't understand why Alec wanted him to wield a whip. Alec knew that his strongest weapon was the Gunblade – something was going on here. Seifer decided not to dwell on the problem too long, and instead focused his thoughts on his whip combat experience. He knew how to use a whip quite well through his classes at Balamb Garden, but the only person he knew who had mastered it was Quistis. He remembered countless combat classes where she had beaten Hyperion with Save the Queen, leaving his body and ego battered. She was always good-natured about it, offering to help him train after classes. He had always denied the offers – now he wished he hadn't.

"Do you like it? It's a fine weapon. We crafted it especially for you, you know. Our team of scientists created it to unleash your maximum skill and strength."

Strength…With a whip? I'm a gunblader. Hyperion is my weapon…not this…Sovereign Chaos. Well, look at your options, Seifer, his conscience remarked. You either play his little game and use this weapon like he wants you to, or you can die. Not much of a choice, eh? Well, look on the bright side. Get along with these guys and you can break out of here sooner and with less risk. While you're at it, you might as well get some dirt on this place so you can sue this guy. Seifer had to admit his conscience was right, although he didn't like to admit he was actually talking to a voice in his head.

"So who are 'our' scientists? What organization do you belong to?" He lashed the whip out in front of him. It had excellent weight and momentum, and seemed to be a bladed extension of his arm. Maybe Alec was right – for a whip, it sure seemed to be suited to his style.

"That, Seifer Almasy, is not for you to know right now. What you should concentrate on now if getting used to that weapon. Prepare from the first round of attack…oh, and don't slack off. These things are programmed to kill you." With that closing statement, Alec left the room, the automatic door slamming shut behind him. Seifer was alone in this dark room, Sovereign Chaos in hand, with no idea what lay in store of him, except that something wanted him dead. Oh yeah, he thought, life around here is one big party…

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Quistis stood in front of her class in the training center, watching in vague amusement as her students gaped at her wordlessly. Her seed uniform was traded in for plain black pants and a navy blue tank top. And in her right hand, instead of the instantly recognizable Save the Queen, was Hyperion…except none of the students recognized it. All they could see was that their instructor who never used anything besides a whip was using a gunblade.

"Alright, students. Today, we'll be practicing close-quarter parrying. If you would all take one of Garden's rental weapons from out of that storeroom, we can begin this class. You may choose a gunblade, nunchaku, or a staff. Once you have selected a weapon, please line up in the main area. When everyone is lined up, the lesson will start."

Quistis was a little worried. Some of these students had been training with gunblades or nunchaku for years, while she only had her SeeD training gunblade skills. She could really use a little of Seifer's natural talent right about now. While the students were busy in the storeroom, she closed her eyes and imagined Seifer, a few years ago. Squall was always just as strong, but his style was choppier, with more power and parrying skills. Seifer's style was like a fluid dance, each movement in tune with the next. He always used Hyperion with one hand (Quistis knew she'd have to use two hands for most techniques) and always had his other hand ready to unleash fire-element magic or give a little extra power to a swing. It was…beautiful, in a way.

"Alright, who's first? Oh, Mr.…Rushton. Right. All right, step right up. The exercise is a 2-minutes combat session against me. I'll be watching your technique, and the goal is to parry my attacks as much as possible. Don't worry, I won't actually hit you with the gunblade," she smiled when she heard a sigh of relief go through the students. "But be prepared to guard anyway. Alright, let's go."

He was using a standard B-Garden gunblade. Quistis sifted through her mental notes and remembered that Will Rushton trained with rifles, but also trained with the gunblade as a secondary weapon. Great, she thought, just my luck, a gunblader on my first student. Quistis, just remember Seifer. You fought against him so many times when you taught him – just think, just _feel_ - feel him through Hyperion.

She raised the black gunblade into a fighting stance. Both hands gripped the elegantly curved handle tightly (how on earth did he fight with this using one hand?) as she waited for Will to advance. Now, what was it that Seifer said that day…her mind drifted off for a few moments.

_"Fighting with a gunblade my way is different than anyone else's. Don't bother watching their eyes, watch their sword and your sword instead. If you watch their eyes, that sword could be through you before you know it. Strike like every hit will be the final blow. Blocking a sword is like blocking a bullet. It's going to kill you if it hits you cleanly. Take it head on, stand your ground and let your sword defend you, don't try and dodge it. But remember one thing. In order to fight my way, you have to have flow. Every parry, block, strike and kill must flow together. You break the flow, you've failed yourself."_

It was the longest decent statement he had spoken to her during their years at garden. It was after class, and they had stayed behind in the training center. Quistis had just finished marking his fight with a T-Rexaur (he was the only student who had taken one down by himself) and they were sitting on a bench, going over the battle. Quistis had asked him how he did it – how he was such a good gunblader. She didn't expect a response from him at all, let alone the one he gave her. He was funny like that.

All right, let's see how much he taught me…Lunging forward, she slashed diagonally, solidly hitting Will's blade. Hyperion sliced through the air effortlessly, but still carried the momentum of the full weight. She could tell from Will's posture that she had caught him off guard, because he not only didn't have time to parry, his stance after blocking left him wide open. Quistis took the opportunity to force his gunblade down with Hyperion, swinging it forward for a deadly horizontal slash. Will attempted to bring his gunblade up, but Quistis was already holding his wrist with her left hand. She stopped the jet-black blade an inch away from his neck. Tic-tac-toe.

"What, you weren't expecting that?" releasing his wrist, she stepped back. Switching her view to his eyes, she could see the evident surprise. "Why don't you try attacking me, then? Let's see what you've got." She was surprised by her own cockiness. Maybe a little too much of Seifer was rubbing off on her through Hyperion.

Thoughts scattering, she twisted Hyperion around in a circle block and deflected the incoming gunblade to the side, parrying Will's attack perfectly.

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Yeah, really late, I know. Sorry 'bout that. Anyway, I hope it's drifting away from the clichés a bit. Reviews are always appreciated.

Peace out.

Juusan Ikkiuchi


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**_Save Yourself_**

**_Chapter Fourteen_**

Response time!

**Yuyami No Okami:** Knew you wouldn't let me down. Thanks for the review!

**Wyvern Ryder:** Yep, Alec's the classic character you love to hate. I'll try and update quicker, it's mostly my fault of being a horrible slacker.

**Lain of The Weird:** Expect a lot of fighting in the near future. Sorry, Sovereign Chaos is one of a kind, otherwise I'd be running through the streets of my town waving one around, laughing maniacally.

**Jack Hanek:** Yeah, this story is in for the long run. I'm glad you liked the switching-weapons bit, I thought it was a refreshing change as well. I wanted to make this Seiftis/Quifer story a little original, I guess. Love your reviews as always.

**Angel-Kinneas4:** You think they keep getting better? Rock on!

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The room remained pitch dark. Muscles twitching in anticipation, Seifer waited for this 'first round of attack', whatever that might be. He held the handle of Sovereign Chaos in his right hand, and let the bladed whip link trail on the floor. His left hand rested at his side, ready to block, grab or shoot a Firaga spell at anything that moved. (During his years living solo, he still sought out draw points, and still favored fire-element magic. He always made sure Fire, Fira and Firaga were well stocked.)

His ears strained, as he listened intently for any sign of movement. A whirring - which could only mean machinery. His mind flitted back to Monster Studies class. That meant he was going to be dealing with anything from a measly GIM47N or GIM52A, to a BGH251F2 or even something as powerful as Trauma. He could only guess from the hospitality what kind of machine he was up against.

What he thought was a solid black wall in front of him opened, like a normal garage door. Stepping through, he found himself in a huge mechanical arena. Circuits, lasers, screens and metal everything plastered the walls. The 'arena' itself was dark, except for a single light coming down in the middle of the room. The floor was surprisingly with real grass – not even Astroturf – which seemed to clash immensely with the rest of the area.

Hmm, I'll bet Hyperion that when I get into the center of that light, something's going to attack me. Gripping Sovereign Chaos tightly, he stepped forward cautiously. All right, I'm here - In the middle of your stupid frickin' light. If something's going to try and kill me, seize the moment. Pausing, he glanced around. Nothing was moving, but he could still hear that whirring sound. But that could be anything in the room, you should be on your guard anyway, his conscience remarked.

He straightened his back and assumed his 'knight' pose. With a gunblade it worked and looked menacing. With a whip – no matter how deadly it looked – it just hung flaccidly and looked about as menacing as a kid waving a pool noodle around. Change was in order. He widened his stance, turning his right foot horizontally and placing his weight on it. He lifted his left foot forward and pointed it straight. This way, I'll be able to react more quickly, plus I'm more balanced…why didn't I think of this earlier? Instead of holding his right arm straight in front of him, he held it up about head-height, like he was about to swing a gunblade in a downward strike. The whip blades hung down, parallel to his back. Now he could swing it into a powerful forward attack, or a sidesweep. He kept his left hand out in front of him, ready for anything.

"Bring it on, bitch!" His voice echoed through the vast room. As if to answer him, a door at the other end of the arena opened. A loud clanking was heard, obviously some robot. But which one was it?

As it came closer to the floodlight, he could see its chunky silhouette, and when it came even closer, he could see its puke-yellow exterior. A GIM47N. Ooh, I'm scared Alec. Big challenge. No guns, just those big fists – which can't hit me if they're not near me. I suppose it is a good chance to get used to this whip though. The box-like machine advanced further, to within 6 feet of Seifer. All right, let's see what this beast has got! He brought his arm down, using a flick of his wrist to add a surge of extra power.

Nothing but a black and silver blur, Sovereign Chaos sliced through the air – and the GIM47N – like a hot knife through butter. It snapped back to its original place, ready to strike again, like a cobra. It wasn't necessary, however, as the robot was currently a smoldering pile of sparking metal. One hit, 1 second, one down. Seifer stared in amazement. He hadn't used a whip in years, but using this one was as familiar to him as using Hyperion. Quistis would be proud, an amused part of his mind commented.

He stiffened his stance as he heard the clunking of another advancing robot. Wait, it was two robots. And the steps were fleeter, so they couldn't be GIM47Ns. And they were advancing from opposite directions. GIM52As, they had to be. His suspicions were correct, as he could see the sleeker dark blue robots coming from both sides with his peripheral vision. They were three times as strong as the 47Ns, but Seifer knew by now that his skill and this whip were strong enough to take them both on.

They cast haste on each other and started charging towards him at breakneck speed – while Seifer tensed, waiting for the perfect moment. When they were just a few feet away from his, he whisked his arm and wrist around in a roundhouse slash, severing their robotic legs and causing them to crash to the ground. Feeling his left hand burning with magic, he pointed it at the closest GIM52A and whispered one word. "Firaga." It burst into flames, and Seifer dashed back as it exploded, taking the second one out with it.

He didn't have a second to take a breath before he saw three SAM08Gs advancing on him. Getting tougher, eh Alec? Well bring it on, because I'm going to keep playing your little game of death until I get out of here…

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20 matches later, Quistis was a little more than exhausted. During the whole class, not a single student had parried one of her attacks, and she had blocked all and parried most of the student's attacks, even the regular gunbladers. All the students were standing around, tired and bewildered – being outmatched by their Instructor when she wasn't using a whip was unheard of.

"You…can take the rest of the afternoon off, students. You all get full marks for the class." She watched their faces brighten and smiled to herself. "Just leave the weapons here, I'll put them away." The excited chattering that accompanied the end of class roared to life as the class drifted out of the training center. She sighed and began gathering all the weapons together, placing them on a nearby table. Hyperion was laid delicately in its case, gleaming like liquid onyx.

"Oh, Seifer. Did I do well enough for you?" Quistis smiled faintly as she opened the storage room door. She neatly placed the gunblades, staffs and nunchaku back to their proper positions, signing them in on the nearby computer. Another class down, Hyne knows how many left to go. But what on earth was she going to do tomorrow? A week ago, she'd already have the next few classes completely planned out. But no, thanks to Seifer and Alec, her schedule was a massive mess of impromptu classes.

She sat down beside Hyperion's case and absently brushed the cleaning cloth over it. Such a beautiful weapon, she thought, sleek but still so powerful. Laying it carefully back into position and clicking the lid shut firmly, she stood up, feeling the full weight of case and blade. Such a beautiful weapon…no surprise, it did belong to such a beautiful person…

Her heart ached to see him again. She missed the cocky smirk, the conceit, the attitude and just the general presence of Seifer. But no, all she got to see was the Prince of Pompousness, Alec. I'd better get to the bottom of this the next time I have to meet up with that jerk. I know he's more than a 'chief of police'. A thought struck her as she headed back towards the dormitories. I have access to all of Garden's data, and the Balamb Police force data, since the case for Sam Liamay started. I can do a background check on Alec, and maybe uncover a bit of this mystery.

After pouring herself a mug of coffee and absently grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on her counter, Quistis sprawled out on her bed, tapping away on her laptop. After checking her B-Garden email (plagued with Selphie's spamming about the next festival), she hacked into the Balamb Police Forces' database.

"Hmm, here's a list of employees…Ah, here we go, Alec Crowell." She ran her finger over the touch pad and clicked. His stuck-up mug flashed on the page (Quistis inwardly flinched) and Quistis wasted no time in scrolling down the page.

_Name: Crowell, Alexander (Alec)_

_Age: 23 _

_Sex: Male_

Height: 5'11" 

_Weight: 165lbs_

_E/C: Green_

_H/C: Black_

_Hometown: Deling_

_Previous Occupation: D-District Prison Manager, Galbadian General During SSW_

"Well, gee, those previous occupations don't scream suspicious or anything." Quistis muttered to herself. "But look at his age! He must be talented or something to achieve all that and only be 23."

_Years on Balamb Police Force: 2_

_Rank: Chief_

_Weapon: Unknown_

Mission History:

_D-Down_

_BG-Eliminate_

_Rogue_

D-Down and BG-Eliminate were two well-known Galbadian missions during the Second Sorceress War, but Quistis had no idea what this so-called 'Rogue' mission was. Intrigued, she tapped on the link.

_Access denied. Authorized Personnel only._

"Oh, we'll see about that…" She grumbled, downing her coffee and the muffin as she wracked her mind for some rusty hacking skills.

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Seifer groaned in annoyance, pain and exhaustion as the Mobile Type 8 advanced on him, appearing to be unfazed by any of his attacks. His mind raced as he listed his options aloud.

"Uh…okay, machine type. Weak against thunder magic. Do I even have any thunder magic? Uh, okay, I guess I do. Better use it sparingly though. How many? Hmm, 4 thundagas, that'll have todo." He tried to dodge the twin homing lasers blazing at him, but he got grazed anyway. Searing pain shot through his left arm, causing him to stumble and swear profusely. "Cure." As he muttered the single word, the wound stopped oozing blood but the pain remained.

"Thundaga!" He shouted, pointing his injured left arm at the gigantic machine. Barrages of electricity left his fingertips, but the powerful spell also coursed agony throughout his already-sore casting arm. "Fuck that hurts!" He watched in satisfaction as the machine writhed in 'robotic pain' – it almost made his own pain worth it. He had little time to celebrate, however, as he quickly drew a few Curaga spells from its left probe. His eyes widened in fear as he saw the machine change up for it's deadliest attack – the Medigo Flame. Wasting no time to prepare for the attack, he quickly cast one of the Curaga spells on himself.

Seifer braced himself for the impact. The room darkened even more (if that was even possible) and then the world ended.

…

Okay, it didn't end.

Seifer could feel his already tattered clothes peeling away. His body felt like there was 100 Quistis' standing around him, lashing him with their own Save the Queen. His vision contained only one color – blood red – and he wondered if it was his own blood. He could hear screaming – his screaming? - or maybe it was just the air whistling around him. This had to be death, nothing could be closer. He was in hell itself. There was no other explanation…his heart panged with sympathy for everyone he had killed before. I suppose it's one of those things you really never realize until you experience it…

And then it all stopped. The screams echoed and faded away. His vision slowlyreturned to him as he found himself staring at a painfully bright arena light. His body was a world of pain, like he had been stripped of a few layers of skin. He was still…alive? Seifer's dry and cracked lips barely managed to spit out the word. "Cur…aga." Energy flowed through him, and he struggled to drag himself to his feet. Looking at his body, he was coated with scars and bruises, and his shirt was completely shredded off. Sovereign Chaos lay a few feet away. He scrambled to pick it up, and turned to face the Mobile Type 8. He knew he didn't have that much time left, and he was out of curing spells. If he was going to kill it, he would have to kill it _now_.

"Triple!" Feeling his body surge with magic, he decided it was a now-or-never moment to unleash the rest of his Thundaga spells. "Thundaga! Times three!" Feeling more like burning fire coursing through his veins rather than electricity, the huge machine in front of him was blasted by countless bolts of lightning. Staggering back, it was starting to smolder. Surely it was almost dead. But Seifer had no more Thundaga spells, or any thunder based spells left. All that was left was his limit break. It was his last shot.

Concentrating his energy into his mind and right hand, Seifer felt his body start to heat up, as it usually did when he used his limit break. "Fire Cross!" Instead of the fire he expected to come out of his left hand, nothing happened. Staring in disbelief, he tried it again. "Fire Cross!" Still nothing. Seifer was beginning to panic. The mobile Type 8 was charging up for another Medigo Flame. He didn't have much time left.

He looked at Sovereign Chaos expectantly. Of course – no wonder Fire Cross wasn't working – this wasn't Hyperion! But what the hell was his limit break with this weapon – this Hyne-damned weapon!

As if to answer him, words spoken by an unseen voice echoed through his head.

_…Ravager Soul…_

Seifer had nothing to lose. Except maybe his life. It was worth a shot, even if it was some little voice in his head and could very well be his imagination.

"Ravager Soul!" Sovereign Chaos jumped with electricity, and tried to lash out of his hand - Seifer's tight grip sent him sprawling after the whip, who had seemed to quickly develop a mind of its own. The blades wound around the huge machine, and blasted it with round after round of lightning. Seifer could only watch in disbelief as the whip spilt apart into 10 individual blades, and embedded themselves deep within the metal of the Mobile Type 8. Acting upon some unknown instinct, he scrambled out of the way, still clutching the handle of the once-intact whip. It proved to be wise, since the 10 blades immediately sent out a large explosion, surrounding and obliterating the once-menacing machine in the process.

Seifer stood in stunned silence as the whip blades clattered to the floor, leaving nothing but a smoking heap of charred metal. Gingerly advancing, making sure that it was in no condition to come back and whup his ass, he picked up a whip segment, which was unscathed despite letting some large-scale explosives rip. To his surprise, it clicked right back into the whip handle, and the rest of the whip segments snapped neatly into place as if they had never broken apart. This whip is a _freak_, he thought. I should've been _dead_ now!

It took a while for it to sink in that there were no more machines to fight. He had won. A hell of a lot of work to live another day, he inwardly grumbled, but was slightly happy all the same.

"Hey, ya bastard! I won your fucking little game!" His shout echoed off the walls over the empty metal arena, with only robot carcasses strewn on the floor to hear his cries of victory.

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Several hours, mugs of coffee, and cookies later, Quistis was no father ahead than when she started. Growing more frustrated by the minute, she had already scoured Balamb, Galbadia and Trabia Garden's files, as well as Balamb's and Deling City's confidential information. Not one even mentioned the mysterious 'Rogue' mission - she was beginning to think it didn't even exist.

Sighing in near defeat, she started hacking into various databases of other towns. Esthar was out of the question for now, their technology containing firewalls that would take her days to get through. Timber resulted in nothing, as did Winhill. (She wasn't expecting anything from those places anyway.) However, when she got through to Dollet's database, some surprising results came up. Interest piqued, Quistis put her food down and stared intently at the screen.

_Mission Rogue:_

_Status: Currently in progress_

_Leader: Alec Crowell_

_Key Participants_

_Mission Objective_

So I know two things now…Alec's leading it, and it's going on right now. Well, I suppose that's a step forward. Clicks on the two links resulted in more 'access denied' screens. Gritting her teeth in silent rage, she furiously typed away, determined to get to the bottom of whatever this stupid mission was.

20 minutes later, she had only come up with one more piece of the puzzle. She had no idea what it was…a person, monster, weapon or place. This mission was one step forward, two steps back. The words flashed rhythmically on the screen, taunting her with useless information.

_Sovereign Chaos._

What did it _mean_?

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Ahahah I'm back. School and karate have been keeping me busy, I've been rocking Art and CS, but math has me pushing the brink of failing. Started sparring in karate…there is no pain like that of kicking someone in the elbow. I've got a huge welt on my left foot. I also got kicked in the jaw, par-tay.

Peace out for now! (Less than4 weeks until Christmas!) ninja vanishes

-Juusan Ikkiuchi


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**_Save Yourself_**

_**Chapter Fifteen**_

"Here you go, Rogue Almasy. Your uniform." Seifer took the clothes wordlessly from the clone (he had taken to calling the guards "clones", since they were all burly, heavily armed and stupid as a sweaty gym sock) not even bothering to comment or attack the guard in an attempt to break out of this place. The collar was still around his neck, and it had already shown him its full potential – Seifer vaguely remembered twitching on the floor in agony after punching Alec – so he had all but given up on escape.

The 'uniform' was different than the clones – they all wore camouflage pants and shirts that were a ghastly shade of olive. Seifer, however, was issued a heavy black jacket, black pants and a white button-up shirt that was oddly casual. Considering his current outfit was sweat stained to hell, and oozing a smell that would kill small animals, they were a welcome change. Turning around to thank the guard, he was instead met by Alec.

"Enjoy your new clothes. The old ones will have to be incinerated, they stink so badly. Oh, and here's your ID tags." He tossed a metal choker to Seifer, that had a small square tag screwed onto the metal plate. Seifer looked at it curiously, picking it up. It struck a chord in him, but he couldn't quite place it. "Does it look familiar? It's the old choker you used to wear." Seifer glared at him, but didn't bother asking how Alec had gotten a hold of it. It's not like any of his other questions were ever answered. He put the familiar chain on over the collar, unfortunately they both fit so he couldn't use it as an excuse to release himself from the portable hell. Oh well, at least the new clothes were welcome.

"Would you mind getting lost so I can get changed?" Alec laughed slightly, then to Seifer's surprise and disbelief, turned and left. Seifer sighed in silent relief, and placed his new set of clothes on the bed.

Seifer, after completing his trial against the robots, had been moved to much nicer accommodations, even though everyone still treated him like shit. He actually had a bed now! (even though it was basically a metal rectangle with a 2-inch thick mattress on it)

And just to add to it, he had his own bathroom, complete with a small shower. But, just like his previous dungeon, had absolutely no means of escape except the main door. (Which of course, was shock-armed like every other door in the damn building.) He was only released to go through another training regime, each one more difficult. His body was constantly injured, as he only got a day or two in between training session to heal. Right now his left shoulder muscles were torn and his right leg had a large laceration across the calf muscle. With the two injuries, walking, lifting and casting were all severely hindered. He cringed in pain as he took his putrid shirt off, then looked down at his chest. It was covered by literally dozens of scars and burns. Any fat he had once upon a time on his body was gone, the only thing left was skin, bone, and lean rock hard muscle. He guessed he weighed 15 pounds less than he had at B-Garden. And looked half as alive.

He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, absently noting how long it had become. (Before he had kept it clipped to at least 2, 3 inches…now his hair almost reached his shoulders) When was this hell ever going to end? There was nothing to look forward to, every day was the exact same. Fighting countless soldiers and robots, getting injuries, getting shocked by his damn collar, getting beaten by Alec. He never heard news of the outside world, and he never knew what Alec was planning. Quistis barely crossed his mind anymore, he had all but given up hope, and Alec never mentioned her anymore. His entire life was reduced to killing in a large metal box..

Shedding his pants, he started to get changed into his new uniform, noting with relief that they had included a pair of charcoal grey boxers. He was just buttoning up his shirt, when Alec started yelling at him from the hall. "Hurry up Almasy! You have a Mobile Type 8 to fight, get your ass in gear!" Wincing at the thought, he quickly tossed on his jacket and rushed to his main door, noting that his right leg wound had reopened and blood was trailing down his leg. He picked up Sovereign Chaos and headed out to fight for his life again.

By the time he had walked to the sterile metal arena that all his training was held in, he had noticed a few obvious things about his outfit. The jacket, which he had noted to be heavy at the beginning, weighed a brutal 45 pounds on his shoulders. He just knew it was lined with lead or something. Although he shouldn't have been surprised, there was always a catch to anything Alec gave him.

"Alec, I get to lose the jacket for training, right?" He was answered with a rude laugh and the perma-smirk of Alec Crowell, but they answered the question just as well as words. No chance in hell.

"No chance, shitface. This is your official uniform, and you will wear it on all training sessions and missions. The weight will increase your stamina and strength – it'll help you in the long run, if of course you survive that long." That was a big 'if', Seifer noted, grunting with the strain of carrying theuseless weight.

They had arrived at the doors, and just like the deadly routine, Alec punched in a code on the panels, the door opened, and Alec left. Seifer was left to kill whatever was in the arena, but his fights never had a purpose except for him to survive. Once again, Seifer was only fighting for himself. Nobody could ever help him now…Not like they ever did.

He rolled his left shoulder carefully, trying to relax the torn muscles. Thank goodness it was only his left arm affected by the injury, if it was his right arm, he would have been dead by now. A sharp pain shot up his right leg as he stepped forward. Seifer grimaced, surviving today would be an extra challenge, and Alec knew it.

Limping into the middle of the arena, he waited for the oh-so-familiar grind of metal, for the latest conflict between man and machine. _Ka-chunk. Ka-chunk._ _Squeeeeeeal_. The loud noises were so familiar to him, even through closed eyes he could see the huge doors opening. Upon opening them, he was greeted by not the chrome-colored Mobile Type 8, but instead a hulking robot that looked like one on steroids.

It was a deadly, glossy black, its sleek metal exterior unmarred and glistening with strength. It had what looked like missile launchers on each of its pods, and large beam guns adorning them. A mysterious third pod hovered in the middle of its back, a perfect sphere, with no weapon of any sort showing. It was the machine version of pure death. Strictly business.Seifer was shaking, with a feeling he hadn't felt in so long…fear.

"Do you like it?" Alec's voice boomed, echoing throughout the entire arena. "I call it a Mobile Type 9. I designed it myself, you know. Twice as fast as a normal Mobile Type 8, with a third pod…although I'm not going to tell you what it does."

Seifer's eyes lit up in fury at Alec's voice. "You BASTARD! You know I can't beat this!"

In a recording booth on the side of the arena, Alec's mouth hung open in shock. In all the time he had known Seifer, he had never heard anyone doubt Seifer, and he never thought Seifer was ever doubt himself. Almasy had a soul that was so determined to survive, any other person in Seifer's position would have died weeks ago. Alec was trying to find out what made him so strong, what made him strive to live. What he was trying to achieve. Now here Seifer was, giving up against an unfamiliar opponent. Pausing to think, he did note that Seifer was badly injured, and by this time, he must have been out of Thunder-based magic. He turned to his assistant, who was sitting beside him wordlessly. "Activate the draw points." The silent man nodded, and pressed a few button on the large keyboard in front of him.

Seifer glanced around the square arena. In each of the corners, swirling white lights indicated draw points. This was probably some cruel trick of Alec's, probably containing useless magic like Sleep, or Death. Magic Alec very well knew wouldn't work on a machine this size, or any machine really. But his curiosity was piqued, and he walked slowly over to one corner, keeping and eye on the black metal giant behind him. Reaching a hand cautiously into the soft white lights, he felt his body surge with power, and could feel the magic running through his veins, and into his casting arm. He was shocked to note that it was 8 Thundaga spells. Maybe there was a chance he'd survive, after all.

Still keeping an eye on the Mobile Type 9, he proceeded to visit the other draw points, each containing Curaga, Ultima and Shell respectively. Well, at least he's giving me a sporting chance, Seifer thought, but this just means this machine is going to be way harder than I thought it would be…He limped to the middle of the room again, feeling the now-comfortable weight of Sovereign Chaos in his right hand. Even he had to admit, the whip was just as powerful as Hyperion, and he was probably as skilled with it as he was with any gunblade. The problem was, he had been near death so many times, but he had only been able to do his limit break once. What if he was about to die again? Would he be able to use it? What could possibly trigger it?

He snapped to attention as he heard the whirring of the Mobile Type 9's metallic heart. Blood red eyes glowed briefly, than stared into his soul. This would definitely be a fight for his life.

Alec decided to stay in the booth and see just how well Almasy would fare. In his heart, he knew that Seifer probably wouldn't survive. Even with the extra magic, Seifer's condition was just too weak…even at full health, Seifer could never withstand the raw power of the machine. A flicker of sympathy crossed his mind, than left as fast as it had came. His attention was diverted, however, as his cell phone rang.

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"Mr. Crowell?" Quistis had meant for her tone to be as sweet as possible, but it came out like curdled milk.

"Quistis, is that you? You know you don't have to call me Mr. Crowell, you can call me Alec." In contrast, his voice was eternally smooth as silk.

"Uh-huh. Alec, we have to talk." There was a pause on the other line. "Alec?"

"Yes, we have to talk. Indeed." He seemed distracted, which was odd, for him. "All right, can I pick you up for dinner tonight? Would that be okay?"

Quistis groaned softly at the thought of their previous 'dinner'. However, to get to the bottom of this mess, sacrifices would need to be made. "Yes, that would be all right…"

"Wonderful. I'll pick you up at 8." Quistis was about to respond, but was cut off, to her surprise. "Oh my go- sorry, Quistis, I must go. See you tonight." And then the phone went dead. She stared absently at the receiver in her hand. What on earth could shake Alec that badly?

"Great, more unanswered questions." Over two weeks had passed, and she wasn't able to find anything on this 'Project Rogue.' Now, she was faced with the last possible resort…going out with the 'enemy'. Sighing in defeat, she turned to the only reliable man in her life, who tilted his head and barked questionably. "Well, Seify, how about you and I go for a walk?" Quistis couldn't help but smile at the puppy's bright expression. "Just let me get changed, ok?"

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"EEEEAAAARRRGH!" Seifer's scream echoes off the cold metal walls as a energy beam ripped through his left arm, blood spattering the walls and soaking the floor. He was barely able to keep his own consciousness as the pain filled his entire world. Squinting through the agony, he looked at heartless metal beast in fornt of him, barely scratched after his best efforts. It seemed to be laughing at him, or saying something along the lines of 'oh my! You managed to _chip_ my _paint_! Oh dear!'

Casting was all but out of the question. His casting arm was soaked in blood and he could barely lift it, let along cast magic with it. He blamed the jacket, it was severely slowing him down, and this Mobile Type 9 was much faster than the 8. There's no way I'm leaving this arena alive, Seifer thought, but there's no way that thing is leaving this arena in one piece… "Curaga!" his arm nearly exploded with pain as the healing magic surged through his body. Thankfully, it also affected his arm, which stopped the bleeding.

"Thundag – AAAAAAHHH!" Another searing pain shot through his casting arm. Weak sparks of electricity shot out of his fingertips. So much for any attacking magic, he though bitterly. The massive machine in front of his was charging for its final attack, which he assumed to be the Mobile Type 9 version of the Medigo Flame. Despite the fact he was probably going to die in a minute, the only thing that crossed his unrational mind was wondering what the attack was called. As if on cue, the robot's heartless, monotone voice announced the final attack.

"Medigo…Inferno." The Mobile Type 9's third pod opened into a large cannon, and attached itself to the right pod. Seifer looked down the barrel and saw his reflection. Then he saw his own death…but he felt eerily unafraid. Placing Sovereign Chaos and the heavy black jacket on the ground, he stood in front of the machine, looking casual in a white button up shirt, the left sleeve tattered and stained a dark crimson. He longed for a cigarette for some reason.

"What is he doing? Why isn't he fighting? What's going on? Stop the Mobile Type 9!" Alec, for once in his life, was panicking. His words were useless, he had programmed the damned machine not to stop until its target was 6 feet under. _Way to go, Crowell, this has to be one of your worst ideas..._

He knew from the start the machine was too powerful for just one person to take on - Seifer Almasy, Squall Leonhartor otherwise -and he knew Seifer was in no shape to take on even a Mobile Type 8. (But when he thought about it, how many people could actually take on a Mobile Type 8 by themselves?)

He couldn't afford to let Seifer die, as much as he hated to admit it, Seifer Almasy was stronger than any soldier in his army, even stronger than himself. And now Seifer was about to go down, and wasn't even bothering to go down fighting. He reached for the microphone. "Almasy? Why are you just standing there? Fight back!"

Seifer calmly looked up towards the booth. "Why, Alec? So I can survive, just to have to go through this again tomorrow? Just to go through more pain, get more injuries? I don't have anything to live for, you bastard. I'm better off dead." He looked away, back to the task at hand. Alec was stunned. He would never understand Seifer, but he only had one chance left. He didn't know if Quistis knew if Seifer was "Sam" yet (I could always find that out tonight, he thought, remembering his dinner date), but it was worth a shot. He forced his voice to calm down.

"Quistis is still waiting for you. She knows you're alive, and she knows that you're Sam Liamay." Seifer looked up in shock, completely caught off guard. But it was too late, the Mobile Type 9's attack had already started.

Seifer's eyes widened in fear. Realization hit him like a brick. Of course he couldn't die now, he still had something to live for...his own anger had clouded the only reason he was still alive. How could he have forgotten Quistis...but it was shame there was no possible way for him to survive this attack, the only thing that could save him would be a GF or a limit break, both of which were unavailable to him in his final seconds. Life just sucked like that.

There was no way he could dodge it, he couldn't use his normal magic, he couldn't use Sovereign Chaos…he had only seconds left to live. A new feeling bubbled up in him, and his vision was stained by a pale blue. What…was going on…? He watched as a gargantuan beam of fire headed towards him, but in his eyes it was going in slow motion. Did things always slow down when you were about to die? He wished the last thing he could seecould beQuistis. It would make these last seconds so much easier.He wanted to scream, but words formed in his mouth out of his control. It was only a whisper, but it was enough.

"…Shockwave Pulsar…"

Energy erupted out of his hands, white light and a frighteningly unnatural blue light surrounded Seifer and formed into an energy beam, heading straight towards the Mobile Type 9 and its own beam of energy.

Alec shielded his eyes as the room exploded into a whirling storm of fire, lightning and energy. The glass of the booth shattered, and shards went flying at Alec, who screamed as they cut his arms and legs. He staggered back, and waited for the killer storm to die down. Amazingly, the building was still intact. The large cuts stung, but he realized with a hint of shame his wounds were petty compared to what Seifer must have been going through.

What had happened? He hadn't been able to hear what Almasy had said, but it seemed like Seifer had pulled out an incredible last-stand attack. He didn't know what the attack was, but he wondered if either Seifer or the machine was still standing. He knew for a fact that no human could survive the Medigo Inferno, but he didn't know if the machine could handle…well, whatever Seifer had done. Alec inched cautiously toward the shattered window, hesitantly peering down into the arena, half expecting another explosion. He gasped in surprise.

Seifer groaned as he stood up, legs shaking with the strain. Shouldn't I be dead by now? Where the hell did the Mobile Type 9 go? A large dust cloud covered the spot where the machine had once been, and a fog-like smoke coated the ground. He looked around. The walls were charred and cracked, like Bahamut had Mega-Flared every square inch of the arena. He looked down at his body. His outfit was singed to pieces, barely hanging onto his body. His body was littered with bloody gashes and burns, and it quivered with the aftereffects of adrenaline.

The dust had settled. Seifer expected to see the machine back up and ready to fight, with a couple of dents and dings on its indestrucible metal body. He was not expecting to see the machine sparking and belching out black smoke out of a gaping hole in its chest. And it wasn't making any motion to get up and start a massacre. He…had survived. No, he didn't survive. He had _won_.

He replayed the last minute in his head. Did I…did I just use what I thought I just used…Shockwave Pulsar? Isn't that…blue magic? I can't use blue magic, that's impossible - The only person I know that can use blue magic is…Quistis. How…could I have used her ultimate limit break attack? His mind was swarmed with questions and thoughts of Quistis as his world faded to black.

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Quistis waited outside Balamb Garden, in a long, flowing navy blue dress. The cool winds made her shiver slightly and the dress flow like liquid satin as the minutes passed away. Students leaving and entering the Garden staring at the beautiful Instructor, alone in the cold night. It was now 9:17. No one dared approach her.

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Gahh I know! It took long enough, eh? I'm sorry ;;


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

**_Chapter Sixteen_**

"Replay that tape again!" Alec was disheveled, empty cups of coffee beside him, an aggravated assistant following his commands at the control panel. The broken glass still littered the floor, and the arena was still charred to a lovely shade of black. Seifer Almasy was long gone, currently situated in the ICU, struggling to breathe because of sheer mental and physical exhaustion. This was the aftermath. "It just doesn't make sense, what on earth could he tap into to make that large of an attack?"

Alec was bewildered and a little scared at the same time. It couldn't have been an attack from Sovereign Chaos, he had created that weapon and knew what it was capable of. He didn't know of any magic that could create such an energy blast, well normal magic anyway. Normal magic was already out of the question, his casting arm was so physically damaged that he had stopped using strong magic mid-fight. The only thing that it could be was a Limit Break, and Alec knew Sovereign Chaos' limit break was Ravager Soul. After doing some research on Seifer a long time ago, Alec knew that Hyperion's limit break was Fire Cross. Was this some unknown limit break that Seifer could only tap into when he was unarmed and an inch from life? It just didn't make sense - This wasn't supposed to happen. Alec drummed his fingers nervously on the table.

He watched the video footage over and over again, from different angles. All of them showed Seifer saying a few words, and then a huge beam of raw energy shot out of his hands. Whatever attack it was, it was enough to kill a Mobile Type 9 in one hit. And that was a frightening amount of power – a power than only he, the creator, could comprehend.

"Zoom in on his face." _Click._ "Find someone who can read lips and find out what he's saying." The assistant looked at him blankly. "_Now_, idiot!" As the man fled from the room, Alec watched the video footage replay again. "Maybe we should keep Seifer at a physical low…See if we can tap into this power of his." He was rudely interrupted mid-thought by the shrill ring of his cell phone. Distracted, he picked it up. "Hello, this is Alec Crowell."

"Crowell! Can you explain why you didn't pick me up yesterday?" The ever-suave Alec cringed at the sound of Quistis' livid voice. This wasn't going to be easy to get out of…without injury, of course.

"Well, you see, I was going to, but I got interrupted by," he peered into the obliterated metal arena, "um, a house fire. I'm quite sorry. How can I repay you?"

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"Oh, just talk to me for a few minutes more." Quistis changed her tone to syrupy-sweet. She glanced over at Irvine, who was seated across from her at a large computer. Without uttering a word, he furiously started typing away. "That typing? Oh, I'm just typing up a lesson plan for tomorrow's Junctioning lesson." She took a cord out from her pocket, hooking it up to the phone, and hooked the other half to the computer. Irvine flicked a few switches, and gave her the 'thumbs up' sign, flashing a boyish grin of satisfaction.

"So Alec, how about we go out for dinner…oh say, in about an hour? Can you be ready by then? Yes? Good. Oh, I'm really sorry about your house, by the way. Ok. See you later!" She finished the conversation with a girlish giggle, then slammed the phone down with a pained sigh. "Did you get it, Irvine?"

"You bet, Quis. I swear, you've got that guy on a leash. I used the B-Garden satellite to trace the exact location of his call…something tells me he isn't calling from a hotel." Intrigued, she moved over to Irvine's side of the computer and stared at the screen. It was a vague map of Balamb, and there was a flashing red dot in the middle of the land mass.

"That looks like…the dead center of Balamb. There aren't any buildings in the middle of Balamb, at least the last time I checked. Could you bring up the satellite map of Balamb?" Irvine's fingers flew over the keyboard, and the screen filled up with a detailed picture of Balamb, clearly outlining all the buildings. She watched in amazement as little outlines of cars zipped through the streets.

"Just like I thought…nothing. That means he was either flying over Balamb in an

airplane or some form of airship…" She scratched her head in puzzlement. "Did you pick up an aircraft at all?" Irvine shook his head.

"Well, the camera is constantly updated through a satellite stream. Any sort of aircraft would show up, no matter how fast. The only way it could bypass normal satellite radar is through an anti-radar or a cloaking device. B-Garden's satellite radar has the latest technology, so we can evade those devices. Long story short, no aircraft was detected."

"Well, there's no cars in that area. There's no roads to that area, anyway. There's the chance he was standing by himself in a wide open space, but that's very unlikely. That only leaves…" Her voice trailed off.

"Underground." Irvine finished for her. "You going to go track him down?"

"Yeah, I'll need to prepare for it though." She began to pace the room. "But how much time do I have? Hmm…Alright, I'll be seeing that motherfucker in an hour…" Irvine raised an eyebrow in amusement.

"Such strong language. Is he really that bad?"

"Trust me, a date with Alec Crowell is about as fun as someone shoving a live rattlesnake down your throat, and at the same time, driving a rusty metal pole up your ass. In a heat wave."

"…Nice imagery. I think my soul just threw up a little inside."

Quistis cracked a grin in spite of herself. "You're welcome. Now, before this date, I need a tracking device, also a sound recording chip. I want to track this jackass's location, and any conversations that might be important. Think you can get your hands on those?" It was a question, but came out like an 'or else' statement. "I'd appreciate it."

Irvine laughed, tipping the brim of his ever-present hat up. "Of course I can, meet me by the entrance in about a half hour, I'll get everything you need. Hope you survive your dinner date, by the way." Languidly stretching his legs, he stood up and walked out the door with a degree of casualness that only Irvine could achieve.

Quistis groaned. Most people would look forward to a lovely night out at a fancy restaurant, but she couldn't think of anything she'd like less right now. Defeated, at least for the present, she headed to her room to find a suitable dress.

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"What's his condition?"

"He is still unable to breathe by himself. Severe trauma to the chest…Lacerations over ¾'s of his body. Torn muscles in the left shoulder…severe wound on the right calf muscle. Was previously stitched, but reopened through strain. We had to close it up again. The left arm is…well, we don't know what happened to it. All we know it's in pretty bad shape. Shit, Crowell, what did you put this guy through? A meat grinder?"

"Hrm…Well, it was a little…exercise. Tell me more about the left arm."

"It appears to be…burnt. From the inside. Take a look at that. The skin is completely scarred on the upper arm here. I'm hesitant to diagnose it - I have an idea of what it might be, but I want to run a few tests first."

"I think there's a video clip you should see. Go to the arena control room - mind the mess – and ask the assistant there to show you the video clip. As for me, I have to take Quistis Trepe to dinner. "

"Quistis Trepe eh? Heard she's pretty exclusive. How'd you manage to get her on a date?"

"Well, someone as suave as me is irresistible to the ladies. Also, when you have as much power as me, you can threaten people with things worse than death. Remember what I said, check out the video footage. And make SURE that Seifer survives, by any means. He has more value than just an elite soldier."

"Doesn't look so elite now." The doctor muttered under his breath as Alec left room.

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"Why, Quistis, you look positively _radiant_."

"Thanks Irvine, if you were anyone else I would've punched you in the stomach for that."

"Good to know." Irvine laughed, taking in the woman before him. Quistis had selected a shimmering pale yellow sundress, the material delicate and light as clouds…a deceiving outfit for a woman who could kick a man's ass three times before it hit the ground.

Her hair was completely down again, and was flowing over her shoulders with the splendor of liquid gold. She was wearing a gold and diamond chain that she had purchased on the last QRS Mission, (A rather stupid code which translated to a girl's night out) albeit reluctantly. On her feet were lovely white satin shoes with the reasonable heel size, with no risk of broken necks. Selphie and Rinoa would be proud.

"So, did you get the equipment?"

"I sure did! Here's the tracking device," he fumbled around in his pocket, then pulled out a small black piece of plastic the size of an average microchip. "Uh, it's pretty small. Make sure you don't lose it. There's this peel-off stuff on the back, so it'll stick to stuff. The batteries will last for about 48 hours, which should be enough time to find out where he's staying." He sifted around in his pocket for a few more moments, only to pull out another identical-sized chip, this one a pleasant shade of charcoal grey. "Here's the sound recorder. I'll be recording anything it picks up in the next couple of days for you." He passed her the two chips.

Quistis smiled in genuine affection towards her sharpshooting friend. "Irvine, I don't know how to thank you…" He smiled, and waved it off with his hand.

"Hey, don't worry about it, what are friends for eh? Just bring me home some leftovers from La Finesse or whatever fancy restaurant you go to tonight. I like Chinese food, hint hint." He cracked a grin, and before Quistis could say another word, he turned on his heel and left.

"Thank you Irvine…you don't know how much this means to me…" she whispered as she saw Selphie intercept him in the hall, dragging him off to goodness knows where. Smiling faintly, she walked towards the Balamb Garden entrance, slipping the two small chips into her purse.

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_Snail races. They were having snail races. He had wanted to race crabs, but after a crab of the large variety had attacked Quistis' ankle, she blatantly refused. So here they were, bodies draped over a large salt-water bathed rock, watching the two dime-sized snails crawl along. Actually, crawling was giving them too much credit. They were going sooo slow._

_"Ugh, if they were going any slower, they'd be going backwards." He ripped his gaze away from the gastropods, flipping onto his back to bask in the warm summer sun. He laid his arm over his eyes and began to doze off within seconds._

"Seifer, look! My snail's winning!" The gleeful look on her sunburnt face filled him with a childish rage. Looking at their makeshift racetrack, her snail was indeed winning. By a longshot - in snail standards, anyway.

_"Whaaat? No way! That's impossible, you must've moved yours!"_

_"Nuh-uh, Seifer. Look at the trail behind my snail. If I had moved it, that wouldn't be there. Maybe yours died." She added helpfully._

_"Hrrmph. I still think you cheated." He picked up the snail, watching it coil back into its shell. "Maybe it's just thirsty." He dunked the snail into the nearest pool of water, then plunked it back down on the rock, substantially farther in the race than it had left off._

_"Don't think I didn't see that." He responded to her comment by sticking out his tongue. She giggled, saying, "Hehe…aww, Seify's jealous."_

_"I am not!" he retorted, shaking his fist half-heartedly, scowling at the rock because he couldn't look her in the eye. "Your snail is stupid."_

_"The only way we could time your snail is with a sun dial!" _

_"W-w-well…" She had beaten him once again in the verbal war. "Well, snail races are stupid anyway. I'm going to go skip rocks!" he shoved himself off the large rock and stalked off. As he walked farther away, he strained his ears to hear the quiet whimpering behind him. He didn't want to, but he stole a quick glance behind him._

_Quistis had the two snails cupped in her hands, and was placing them back into a small pool of water delicately. Her quiet sniffs were as loud as screams to him._

_"I don't think you're stupid." She was talking to the snails. Stupid Quisty and her stupid liking everything! Why did she have to be so nice to everyone and everything? "Seifer doesn't know what he's talking about." She turned to look at him, a few stray tears streaking across her sunburnt-red and freckled face._

_Why did he always end up hurting her somehow? He never meant to…_

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"Quistis, you look positively lovely." Once again, Alec kneeled gracefully and kissed the back of her hand. Once again, she resisted the urge to backhand him across the face. "Where would you like to dine this evening, Miss Trepe? You can choose the restaurant this time. It doesn't matter which one, cost isn't an issue."

A small smile graced Quistis' features, a rare occasion in the presence of Alec. "Actually, I do have a craving for Chinese food…"

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Sorry about the wait, as usual!

-Juusan Ikkiuchi


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

**_Chapter Seventeen_**

The China Rose…Quistis liked it infinitely better than La Finesse. It was a fancy restaurant, sure, but at least there wasn't super-reserved seating and a string quartet spewing out a waltz. It was refined, but only with the beauty of nature itself. Their table was close to a rook pool and waterfall – admittedly much nicer than the dark, secluded corner they had stayed in before. Instead of the romantic single candle for lighting, the table was warmly lit with several pastel-shaded lanterns. Soothing oriental music was playing in the background, and overall the dining area was calm, and "refreshing" in a way. She was glad Alec had let her choose the restaurant this time.

Alec had shown up in his manditory tuxedo. Quistis was beginning to wonder if he wore anything else. She breathed a sigh of relief when a convertible turned out to be his vehicle of choice this time – she would rather walk than go in that insufferable limo again. Actually, she'd rather not go at all, but this was a mission, and missions took top priority, no matter how ridiculous.

"So, Quistis. How has life been at the Garden?" His chiseled chin was resting on a well-manicured hand, and he was staring at her intently with piercing amber eyes. Normally they gave off a feeling of almost unbearable arrogance, but they looked different tonight. She could swear there was a hint of – Hyne forbid – defeat in his eyes. And, to add to the amazement, he was actually not getting on her nerves. She found the change quite pleasant. Yet suspicious.

"Oh, you know, stressful as usual. It's all part of being a teacher – of course I wouldn't want any other job. The students look up to me, it's such an amazing feeling."

"I think it's great that you're a teacher. I have a little more hope for the future SeeDs now," he chuckled a little, but it was strained. "Police forces all over the world depend on the SeeDs, you know. Not just with battles, but helping us track down criminals."

"Like Sam Liamay, correct?" Alec frowned at Quistis' bluntness.

"Correct…Why do you bring him up?" He has no idea, Quistis thought. He doesn't know I've figured out who Sam is – he doesn't know I'm trying to figure out his _real_ organization. Unless he's playing me like a card…

"Well, yes. I was wondering if you had any more information.to give me. I've been wanting to meet Sam Liamay for a while now."

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She has no idea. So she hasn't figured out who Sam is – and the purpose of Mission Rogue. Unless she's playing me like a card. No, Quistis wouldn't do that. She's the type that would confront me about it the moment she figured it out. I'm still safe. Now, time to bullshit my way through this…

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Alec's malicious grin ebbed back into his blank expression. He was almost back to normal, but not quite. "Well, Sam Liamay is currently in custody of our best agents."

"In custody? Where? And whose agents are they - surely the Balamb police force doesn't have special agents."

"I can't reveal where he's being held. All I can say is he's in a…centre…for dangerous reoffenders. And, no, the agents are not from Balamb. They're from a special Deling City organization." Quistis flushed, she couldn't believe this guy!

"Dangerous reoffender? You can't be serious! All he did was assault one person! Surely that doesn't count as dangerous. He should be in the Balamb District Prison, at the most!"

Alec was getting increasingly nervous, and Quistis was getting more and more frustrated. "Sam Liamay has a previous…criminal history. It's questionable whether all the accounts were cleared or not."

Hyne, he's talking about the deaths during the sorceress wars…Figures. Quistis, you've got to calm down, otherwise this evening will go downhill and you still have to get those chips on him somewhere. You find out where Alec's little 'hideout' is, you find Seifer. Easy as that.

"Alec, dear," She gagged inwardly, what possessed her to say that? "Let's order our food and forget about the whole thing, ok? Let's just enjoy the evening." She smiled – Alec's reaction was perfect. Whatever he was expecting her to say, she obviously didn't say it. She watched his posture relax and his face break into a friendly and halfway normal smile. Now, all she had to do was figure out how to get those chips on him. She couldn't put it on his clothes, even though he wore a tuxedo a lot, she couldn't bet that he wore one 24/7. What was something he carried around with him routinely, that she could put chips in without them being obvious? A wallet…but she couldn't very well steal his wallet without being noticed here. That left one thing. "Um, Alec?"

"Yes, Quistis?"

"Could I borrow your cell phone? I forgot mine at Garden, and I have to call my friend Selphie to tell her to leave food out for my dog." It was a half-assed attempt at an excuse, but Irvine was right. She had this guy wrapped around her finger.

"Oh, of course Quistis." He fished around on the inside of his tuxedo jacket and produced a sleek black cell phone. It was miniscule, but that didn't surprise her. This guy apparently carried nothing but the most advanced. For a so-called Balamb Police Officer, he was carrying equipment that even the highest ranking Deling City officer would dream of having. "I know it's small," Alec laugh was oddly soft. "Be careful you don't inhale it."

Quistis couldn't help laughing, but it probably just aided her task. Taking the cell phone in hand, she headed towards the bathrooms. Thankfully, it was empty. She walked into a stall, barred the door and spread the contents of her purse out on the toilet tank. Never one to be unprepared, several small screwdrivers were among the lot. Damn, this one's so small, I wonder if I'll have room for the chips. I was kind of hoping for a big clunker of a phone – oh right, they stopped making those _eons_ ago. Picking up a tiny squarehead screwdriver, she managed to take the back off the phone with little effort. _Ugh, going to be a tight squeeze_, her conscience remarked. She picked up the two microchips and peeled off the backs, and stuck them among the other circuitry. Holding the phone in one hand and the back of it in the other, she prayed for it to fit together.

_Click._ By some miracle, it did. She hastily screwed the phone back together and dialed Selphie's number, knowing the number would be registered in the call history.

"Hello?"

"Hey Selph. Can you feed Seify for me?"

"Huh? Didn't you feed him before you left?" _Play along_, Selphie, just play along. Don't say anything stupid…

"Uh…no. Could you be a dear and feed him?"

"Um, sure." _Beep._ Quistis felt bad for leaving Selphie so confused, but she could bet Save the Queen safely on the guess that the calls were recorded. She couldn't take any chances. Putting her tools back in her purse, she took her own phone out and dialed Irvine's number.

"Howdy. What's up, Quis?"

"The chips are planted."

"Alright, I'll get the software up and running. Don't you worry about a thing now, just survive the night. I'll track him from here."

"Thanks, Irvine. I really appreicate it."

"No problem. Hey, any chance that you're going to bring home some food?"

"Sure, Irvine. I'll make an extra order here for you."

"You're the best, Quis. Talk to you later."

"Bye, Irvine." _Beep._

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"How's his status?"

"Still critical, I'm afraid." A small team of doctors hovered around Seifer's table. "I think this guy went through the closest thing to hell." The computers surrounding the unconscious body beeped rythmically in inanimate agreement.

"Look at this. Anyone else would've been dead." The first doctor took out some x-rays and plaed them on the lightboard. Ghostly shadows of bones grinned back at them, telling a grim play-by-play of the battle. "Fractured ribs, collarbone, pelvis, you name it. It's almost like a shockwave went through his body, practically shattering everything in the process."

"Owch.Glad I'm a doctor here, not a soldier. Have you seen his left arm?"

"Look at the skin surface. That shade of red can only belong to a deep, permanent scar. We took several tissue samples, each one deeper than the last." He pulled out an important-looking sheet off of his clipboard. All the pictures showed groups of cells, different in shape but all the same shade of charred black. "Everything under those scars is completely burned and dead." He paused while the sheets were passed around the room. "By some miracle, he still has muscle control over the entire arm – so we won't have to amputate it. However, I've been doing research into injuries like this…magic-related injuries. His left arm, of course, is his casting arm. I'm not sure whether it's a self-inflicted injury - and if it is, whether it was intentional or accidental – or an injury inflicted by the magic-based attacks of the Mobile Type 9."

"Ugh, did you see that machine? What do you think of it?"

"It's much too dangerous…It's too powerful, and capable of too much destruction. I wonder…How on earth did Seifer manage to defeat it? I don't think entire armies could do that…"

"Well, I personally think it's good that the machine's gone. I think Alec went a little too far with that experiment."

"He has the blueprints, you know. He could always build another one. But I agree with you…Alec is taking this whole human-weapon thing with Seifer too seriously."

"You know, I always doubted that a human could be stronger than a machine. Seifer's kind of changing my perspective on that. I feel sorry for him, you know? Just being forced to fight pointlessly again and again. I wonder why he keeps fighting? He must know that he's being used as Alec's little tool."

"Seifer's must be a lot stronger than just physically. Imagine the toll all this must be paying on his sanity. The way I see it, he's going to snap and destroy everything in this place, and then himself. Either that, or he could finally just lose his mind and fall completely under Alec's control. Hyne help Alec's enemies then. Of course, there's one more outcome."

"Which is?"

"He could break out of this place. We both know he could do that quite easily. If a Mobile type 9 can't stop him, what are a few measly guards?"

"But why hasn't he done that already?"

"I'm not really sure, but Alec must have something on him. Something to hold against him. There's the whole 'Sam Liamay' crap, but if Seifer got convicted as Sam once he was out of here, the most he would be facing is a fine for assault. And then he could spill the beans on this place and Alec would be screwed. So there's gotta be something else."

Another white-clad doctor rushed into the room, waving a sheet of paper aimlessly. "We got the results on what Seifer was saying right before his last attack!"

The two doctors turned to face him, and the first one snatched the paper from the flailing hand.

"Shockwave Pulsar?" He frowned, wondering where he had heard the name before. The second doctor jumped in surprise.

"Shockwave Pulsar…why…that's the ultimate Blue Magic attack!"

"Blue Magic? But isn't there only one recorded Blue magician currently alive?"

"That's correct. The only remaining Blue magician – or so we thought – alive, is none other than Quitis Trepe, one of Balamb Garden's more elite soldiers."

"Quistis Trepe? Could she be involved in all of this?"

"I really don't know…hey, isn't Alec going out with her tonight?"

"Yes, that's what he said."

"I feel sorry for her." The other doctors snickered.

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"Ah, that was delicious. That was an excellent choice of restaurant, Quistis."

"Why, thank you Alec." The pair was strolling through a small park, about a 10-minutes drive away from Balamb. It was practically deserted, save for a few people out for a late night walk, and the surrounding wildlife. Several stray fireflies danced in front of them as they perused around the gardens. Vividly colored flowers seemed to take a darker tone as shadows silently blanketed them.

They continued to walk in silence, the only noise being the repetitive chirping of crickets and the odd croaking of bullfrogs. Their steps were quiet on perfectly manicured grass. Quistis found the silence was weighing on her shoulders like bricks. To her relief, Alec's suave voice shattered it.

"Well, Quistis. I was wondering if you'd like to stay at my place tonight. I'd be honored if you accepted my offer."

So much for relief. This was the perfect opportunity to figure out the location of Alec's little hideout! She opened her mouth to accept – but before she could answer, her train of thought was flooded with doubts. You know as well as I do that he's not going to lead you to a secret base. He's going to lead you to a quaint little house to throw off your suspicions. And if you accept, you'll be stuck with the jerk for a whole night, and who knows what he'll end up making you do.

Once again, her mind was dead correct. She didn't need to go to this place, secret base or not - Irvine would track it down using the GPS chip. Besides, she wasn't prepared to go on an espionage or infiltration mission – she wasn't dressed for it, and she wasn't equipped for it. It would be better just to wait.

"I would love to Alec, but I've got a very heavy workload tonight. I'll have to take a raincheck on your offer." She could swear she saw disappointment in his eyes, but if it was there, it didn't last long. Alec shrugged his shoulders back and adjusted his perfectly tailored tuxedo jacket.

"Ah, well that's too bad. We'll have to get together another time. Give me a call at the police station tomorrow, I'll be staying there for a few days."

"The police station? Alright, I'll be sure to call you." They continued walking through the park, steps perfectly synchonized and both not saying another word. Quistis mind was racing, however. If Alec happened to go back to his base before tomorrow, and was at the police station all the next day, that left the whole day to infiltrate Alec's little hideout. That, however, left a lot of 'ifs'. 'If' Alec visited his base – she would feel pretty stupid invading a white-picket-fence house. 'If' Alec really was staying at the police station for several days. 'If' she could pull off the mission without getting caught or (worst case scenario) killed. And she was doing this all for the sake of Seifer…and she didn't even know if he was really involved in Alec's plans or just a criminal in some new unlisted prison. She didn't even know if Alec has some diabolical plans or not. Nothing was certain anymore – Quistis just had to rely on her gut instincts for now.

"Will you excuse me a moment, Alec? I have to make a call." He nodded, and she walked behind a nearby tree, out of Alec's hearing range, to call Irvine. If she was going on a mission tomorrow, she only had tonight to plan it. She was going to need some help.

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Alec stared at Quistis' back as she went to make a call. Wait a second. His mind clicked into action. Didn't she say she forgot her cell phone back at Garden? Maybe she just forgot she was carrying it. I'll let it slide, he thought. Nothing's wrong with forgetting something.

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_He could feel the seconds ticking away. He could feel his life slipping away like grains of sand slipping through a closed fist. There was so much he wanted to do, but fate apparently decided to play cruel tricks on him, as usual._

_Impossibly soft snowflakes tumbled around, pillowing on his clothes and hair and blanketing the frozen dirt and gravel. He felt too numb to brush the snow off his body, too numb to move. Not just from the bitter cold, right now he felt completely devoid of emotions. His once-piercing jade eyes were bleak, like a dying firefly, and his golden-brown hair was tousled and filthy. Every muscle in his body felt like it was covered in a sheet of numbing frost._

_Dead eyes, revealing an empty barrel of a soul, gazed at his nemesis. Everything about his enemy was mocking, everything from the posture to the sheer existence was taunting him to get up and fight. His enemy was a true demon…who had more in common with him than he liked to admit._

_The demon could very well pass for himself, the similarities were striking and at the same time, chilling. The demon's lethal glare was accented and enhanced by brilliant turquiose eyes, close to his own shade, but containing twice the malice and half the pain. Dark strands of deep crimson hair hung in the demon's face, but he made no effort to brush them aside._

_All of his comrades were dead, save for Quistis. She was lying unconscious, but still alive, the snow leaving her nothing but an ambiguous lump in a desert of white. Her left hand stuck oddly out of the drift, but her pale skin hardly contrasted – if he hadn't been watching in helpless agony when and where she fell, he never would have noticed it. Small patches of red and pink littered the snow around her, vague memories of claws ripping through the soft flesh of a shoulder. He shuddered in cold and fear, but to the demon, he was still frozen like a statue._

_He switched his gaze to the demon, not having enough energy in his entire body to move his head to the side. The demon was still standing there, a mere 20 feet away. In perhaps a false and poor interpretation of death, the demon carried a scythe, the blade stained with the blood of countless mortals. The other hand held a large, cumbersome, but deadly efficient chain gun. A sharp contrast of new-world and old-world technologies, all in the wrong hands._

_Two guns were lying uselessly by his side, the inches between them his fingers only a few inches but seeming like miles. A Red 9 was at his left side, a customized Desert Eagle at his right. Sovereign Chaos was lying in a dark and rusted heap at his feet, the blades wrapped around his own left leg. Bullets and their cases were scattered on the barren ground - like casualties of war, he thought with a sick twist of irony._

"_Feeling a little down, Seifer?" The demon finally broke the dead silence, with a voice that dripped with sarcasm and loathing. Two fangs hovered on his bottom lip, indenting but not piercing the skin._

_Seifer forced his eyes to stare at the ground, unwilling to show his pitiful mortal weakness. He secretly wondered whether there would be any difference in the outcome whether he backed down or not. It's not exactly like he could leap to his feet and fight again. What would it earn him, anyway? A few more minutes to live before the demon cut him down like a pesky weed? He had nothing to live for. _

_Except for Quistis. _

"_Look at me when I'm talking to you, Seifer!" Again, the taunting voice ripped through him like a bullet designed to shatter on impact. Seifer's eyes lazily rolled to look the demon in the eyes again. He felt oddly calm, although he was inwardly struggling for control of his body._

"_So it's just you and me now, eh, Seifer?" The demon moved towards him with the silent steps of a shadow. "Do you find it hard to move? Would you like to know why?" Whether he wanted to or not, nodding or shaking his head was completely out of the question. He stared coldly at the demon, trying to hide what little was left of his dignity._

"_It's because your soul is frozen. If you live with a cold heart, you die with a frozen soul." You should be a damn iceberg then, Seifer's sub consciousness growled. But…did I really live with a cold heart? He tried to think back to all the times he had fought alongside his comrades._

_They had never really tried to get to know him, only seeing him as a stubborn, mean kid…and then as he grew up, a stubborn and heartless young man. Although in retrospect, he had never really let anyone past his guards or tried to change his image. He saw getting close to anyone as a weakness, because one you cared for someone, you had to worry about them too, not just yourself. He was content with living for himself, defending his teammates if needed, but just leaving it at that. He had no family that he could remember besides Matron, and years as an orphan and a member of Garden had made him believe the only person you could depend on was yourself. The only people he ever talked to were his 'orphanage friends', and those words were rarely kind. _

_Except for Quistis. The persistent girl was always trying to get to know him better, to get behind his armored walls. Even though she never knew it, she had succeeded. From the day he arrived at the orphanage, she had been kinder to him than anyone in his entire life._

_To his left side, his hand twitched._

_Quistis had always stuck up for him when the others were giving him a hard time. Every time he was angry or upset, she always had a hug waiting for him, even if he never returned it. He remembered countless nights, lying awake, too tired to sleep, embracing the darkness. His early morning walks on the beach, unknown to Matron (she would've been worried sick and never let him go if he told her), casually dressed in nothing else but a pair of scruffy shorts. And then he remembered the one time when Quistis had followed along, and stayed long enough to watch a sunset with him. Such a common occurrence, such a simple phenomenon – yet it was changed into something so much more just by her presence._

_Seifer stared defiantly at the demon. A strange warmth was spreading through him, defrosting his ice-sheathed muscles. Maybe, just maybe, he could summon the strength to speak._

"_Mattias." His voice sounded hollow, a ghost of his former voice, but it still held the cold, cut-to-the-chase tone it always carried. His voice was a source of power, a source of dominance. The demon's expression changed from one of surprise and disbelief to hot anger. Defiance, apparently, was the single worst sin Seifer could have committed._

"_What did you say, scum?" The demon was clearly irritated, cracking his knuckles like gunfire. The scythe twitched and jumped in his left hand._

"_Mattias, do you really think you can kill me?" Gutsy. He was playing with his life on the table now. Strangely, he had never felt so alive. Feeling a surge of adrenaline, his dead muscles came to life, much like a modern Frankenstein. Seifer struggled to his feet, body swaying uncertainly on new legs. The snow and gravel gritted underneath his feet, but held firm._

"_You cocky little bas…"_

"_You're one to talk, Mattias." Seifer challenged. His eyes flitted over to Quistis, and to his sheer relief, the figure stirred, snowflakes softly tumbling onto each other. She was alive…Now if he could only buy them some time. "Strutting around like you own the world, let you can't kill a weak human like me. " A small glimmer of a familiar grin peeked through his lips. _

"_You dare defy me? I could kill you in the blink of an eye!"_

"_Could you? Then why haven't you?" He stood as tall, still and proud as a marble angel, staring eye to eye with a beast that was the bane of human existence. The form of humankind's evil intentions – in the flesh. Seifer was having the time of his life._

"_I…I…" Mattias was struggling for words, struggling for control. The chain gun was raised, and poised to take off Seifer's head in a single shot._

"_You can't kill me, Mattias." Seifer declared, slowly, evenly and relishing every word. His mind drifted back to all of his lies, all of his mistakes, the lives he took, the lives he could've saved but didn't. "You can't kill me…you ARE me."_

_A violent, swirling wind picked up out of nowhere, and the snow moved around at breakneck speed. He saw Quistis, not moving, fingers barely touching those of Zell, who despite having incredible physical strength, had fallen to a barrage of bullets. He saw Squall, the leader, also fallen in the fray of battle, his right arm sliced off with gruesome efficiency. When Squall was out of commision, hope had truly been lost. Selphie was a mess of blood and torn yellow dress. Irvine was crushed under his own gun and several steel beams. His posture suggested he was trying to run towards Selphie, to protect her before protecting himself. He had no idea whether Rinoa was alive or not. He wanted to run over, save them all, but he couldn't move. _

_And then there was a flash of blinding light. When the snow settled, and the glare dimmed, he was standing alone, in a sea of cold, heartless ice._

_Snowflakes played in his hair and on his coat as he turned and walked away from his personal battlefield._

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"What the hell is going in here?" The two doctors charged into Seifer's room. The once monotone beeping machine were screeching in protest, and the computers were flashing critical warning signs. And Sefer was in the middle of it, twitching uncontrollably, trapped in his prison of IV's and restraints.

"Aw, fuck, get some drugs in this guy!"

After a sudden whirlwind of labcoats and syringes, Seifer's flailing body was subdued and recording partially normal readings on the computers. A thin layer of sweat gleamed on his bare chest, adding a light sheen to the otherwise scarred and bloody skin.

His normally messy hair was even more wild than usual, and his face was frozen in a display of brutal pain, evened out with a strange calmness.

"Seizure?" The first doctor wiped his brow and threw the empty medicine bottles and needles in the biohazard garbage disposal. He picked up a clipboard from the table and wrote down what happened…theoretically of course, he didn't quite know what had happened. The second doctor shook his head, a puzzled look playing on his face.

"No, that wasn't a seizure. The symptoms aren't right. If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was more like a…nightmare."

"A nightmare? You can't be serious."

"It's definitely not a seizure. Anyway, we'd better keep an eye on him from now on. We'll take turns checking on him every 15 minutes. I'll take the first check." The other doctor nodded, and then both left the room, flipping off the lights. Computer lights and lines grinned eerily out of the darkness like demons.

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"Hey, Irvine. Here you go, just like I promised." Quistis held out a brown paper bag, the intoxicating scent of chinese food wafting through the wrapping. With a frighteningly girlish giggle, Irvine snatched the bag away from her, holding the bag up to his face, and inhaling deeply. A dopey childish grin spread on his face.

"Aw, Quis, you're an angel!"

"Think nothing of it. It's the least I could do for you."

"Thso, how wuth thuh date, anwhay?" Irvine mumbled through a mouthful of chicken fried rice.

"Don't talk with your mouth full. And actually, it wasn't too bad. Pretty bearable, actually. He didn't try and feel me up, didn't try anything. It was just a nice, normal dinner with a nice, normal walk in the park afterwards." Irvine nodded sagely, but his appearance was thrown off by a chow mein noodle sticking out of his mouth.

"So you said you were thinking of attempting an infiltration mission tomorrow?"

"Yeah, but I'll need someone to fill in for me tomorrow, I've got a bunch of classes."

"Have anyone in mind?"

"Yeah, I'll ask Zell to do it – he owes me, after all. I got him out of that mess when he crashed one of the Garden cars." Shr smiled at the thought. Zell had been freaking out, but she managed to get him out of paying for the damages.

"Hah. Nice. So, I'll keep an eye on this tracking programs, get you the locations of where he stops. If I get any suspicious readings, I'll be sure to call you. But for now, you should focus on getting ready for tomorrow, and getting a lot of sleep. I'll arrange some transportation for you too, so don't worry about that."

"You'd do that for me? Thank you so much, Irvine!" In a sporadic, uncharacteristic move, she leaped over to Irvine and gave him a tackle hug, Selphie style. "Alright, I'd better get going, but I'll leave my phone on. Thanks again!" In another instant, she was gone, running down the hall, looking more like a model going to a photo shoot than a SeeD going to prepare for a mission.

Irvine managed to grin, no small feat with cheeks full of sweet n' sour chicken balls.

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Quistis was greeted at the door by the ever-exuberant Seify.

"Hey, you little rascal!" She scratched behind his ears in just the right spot, and the small puppy growled softly in delight, tiny body wriggling. "I've missed you!" Seify barked.

Let's see, I'll need to wear something light, breathable and easy to move in…Quistis opened her closet with gusto, Seify nipping at her heels. The first thing her eyes trailed to was the peach suit she had always worn on missions before, but deemed it unsuitable for the mission to come. Deciding to choose practical clothes, she picked out a white shirt with long sleeves, that came down to about her elbow. Pants were another issue altogether. Jeans were out of the question. Shorts and skirts would be easy to move around in, but they couldn't carry anything and didn't cover much. Sighing, she pulled out a pair of black cotton pants, not baggy but not skintight either. If there was one thing about this outfit that would please her, it was the fottwear. A broad smile played on her face as she pulled a pair of combat boots from the back of the closet.

Clothes were settled. Now she had to deal with supplies. Dehydrated rations and a small water canteen were all she could afford to carry. If she needed healing, she would have to rely on magic. She hoped she wouldn't run into a situation where she would need healing. But it was better to be safe than sorry, so Quistis made a mental note to stock up on Cura and Curaga before she left. She also was carrying a two-way radio with a signal blocker so nobody could trace the call or interrupt the signal. Irvine would get the other radio. A GPS device was built into the radio.

That left one final thing. Weaponry. Save the Queen and Hyperion were placed on the bed, both polished and looking brand new. Save the Queen was better for long distance fighting, but Hyperion packed much more power. That and the fact she had become quite attached to the sword. During her combat classes, the students saw her using a whip less and less, and a gunblade more and more. Some of her better students had started using whips against her – she had never really realized what a powerful weapon the whip could be until she was up against it. However, even though she had perfected using a gunblade against whips, the whip skills ground into the deepest recesses of her mind still allowed her to flawlessly use a whip against a gunblade. It was years of experience with a weapon against a relatively new weapon to her. And in her heart, her knew exactly which weapon to use.

Her hand reached down and picked up the smooth, lustrous black handle of Hyperion.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Disclaimer**: I don't own FFVIII, and all that jazz. Now, let's carry on, shall we?

**Save Yourself**

**Chapter Eighteen**

_Author's Note: Some parts of this chapter might not be accurate or might kind of contradict things mentioned in previous chapters. I blame this entirely on the fact I haven't worked on this story for many, many months and have just felt the sudden urge to start working on it again. As usual, any comments are encouraged, and please tell me if any of these said errors occurs and I'll do my best to fix them._

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The last night before the mission. Nobody really knew about it except Irvine, but somehow she knew that Squall, Selphie, Rinoa and Zell had caught wind of it. (Though keeping blissfully silent) Mission Redeemer, she had dubbed it, as this was her mission to redeem both herself and Seifer. The last night before the mission, and sleep was completely eluding her. Seify was curled up at her side, softly snoring, one paw suspended in the air. The only other noise in the room was the quiet bubbling of the coffeemaker. Moonlight poured in her windows casting a faint glow on her bed.

3 in the morning, the clock read. Quistis had tried everything to fall asleep, even the time-old strategy of counting sheep. Her body was still, but her mind was racing, wild with thoughts of battle, love, war and Seifer. Predominantly Seifer. She rolled over on to her side, pulling the blankets with her, toppling Seify over. With a disgruntled puppy whine and a dust-induced snort, he readjusted his sleeping position. 3 AM. I need some sleep, she chided herself. Even a few hours would suffice…She clutched her pillow in frustrating, willing her eyes to close and her mind to drift off.

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3AM, and Alec had just arrived at the headquarters, followed by two surly-looking bodyguards. He swiftly punched in codes and swiped cards, opening doors without acknowledging any guard or scientist he passed. His eyes were focused straight ahead, as his patent leather shoes clicked noisily on the metal floors.

"Find me the lead scientists. Ask them to meet me in the board room in 5 minutes. Tell them it's time to move to the next step."

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Seifer awoke in a cold sweat. The room he was contained in was pitch black, save for a few lights belonging to various machines around him. He tried to sit up, but found he was heavily restrained to his bed. Realizing escape was futile; he flopped back to his prone position. Every muscle in his body was aching. The last place he could remember being was in the arena with that hellish Mobile Type 9.

"Urrggh…" A distorted groan was all that he could spit out. He gazed down at his arms, littered with scars and needle pricks. Seifer could only guess how many chemicals were coursing through his veins right now. Would death be such a bad option right now? His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door opening.

One of the doctors approached his bedside. "Hey, looks like you're awake. I'm just checking up on you, seeing how your vitals are doing. How are you feeling?" The doctor's voice was kind, the first kind voice he had heard in a very, very long time.

"I…feel…like hell." Seifer managed to gasp between muscle spasms of pain.

"Well, to be honest, you look like hell. Those restraints probably aren't helping, eh?"

"Urg…not really." The doctor eyes flashed him a look of sympathy. His gaze darted to the door, and around the room.

"Well…I think I'll take them off. I don't think you're in any condition to sprint away and escape this place any time soon, and I'm sure it would make you more comfortable at least."

Seifer couldn't believe it. In this strange building, with all its hellishly efficient technology and heartless goons, was an actual human. His couldn't even begin to express his gratitude as the belts were released. He breathed in relief as his ribcage was able to move again. "….Thank…you."

The doctor turned to leave the room, but was stopped by the faint brushing of a hand against his arm. He looked at the corrupted arm, and the jaded eyes. "Hmm? What's wrong?" Besides the obvious.

"What…are…Alec's plans…for me?" The words hurt escaping his throat, but he needed the answer more than ever. "Where…is…this place?" He tried to summon the strength to sit up, but could only manage a small shudder. "Please…give me some answers."

The doctor was torn. An innocent, hired only for his prowess in the medical fields of regeneration and genetics, was torn between the hand ruling him and the victim of these heinous experiments. The choice was easy, however – if he couldn't break this guy out of here himself, the least he could do was remove some of his suffering.

"All right, you need some answers. And you deserve them. But first, you must answer one question for me: what is your connection to Quistis Trepe?"

Seifer froze, which was nearly impossible to detect from his current state. He knew Alec knew, but had Alec included all of his twisted goons in on his weakness? He scanned the doctor's face, and finally decided that this man was clearly in the dark. He licked his cracked, dry lips, willing the words to come to them.

"Quistis….is an old friend of mine. My…only friend, I suppose." He chuckled hoarsely. "Nobody may know it, not…even her, not even….me – but we're soul mates. We've always had this…bond. Cheesy…huh?

The doctor's face was impassive, lost deep in thought. A connection, a bond. If what he's saying is true, than that may account for the blue magic. He, himself, may not recollect using it, or have any knowledge of it, but there's no saying what Quistis could do as far as controlling it – personally or vicariously… "No…it's not cheesy at all. That answer answers everything for me." He pulled up a nearby stool, and placed his clipboard on a nearby tray, scattered with empty syringes.

"Now, I can tell you everything you need to know."

Seifer looked at him questioningly. "What..About Alec?"

"Fuck Alec. He's a monster for treating you like this, and his plans are twisted and completely self-promoting. I'm ashamed to say I even took a part in this."

"Heh…then redeem yourself. Fill me in on everything….so I can escape…this joint."

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Irvine was waiting at the Garden entrance, a small black case in his hand. Wordlessly, they exchanged comforting glances as he silently handed the box over. And with a curt nod, he headed off to his marksmanship class.

Quistis paused to take a wistful look at the Garden. Who knows, it might be my last, she thought wryly. And all for that scruffy-haired kid, who was out there – she was sure – waiting for her. Nostalgia passing, she headed for her sleek black motorcycle, packing her supplies in tightly, and going through her checklist to make sure she had everything. Rations, water, ammunition, waterproof blanket, first aid kit, and of course Hyperion. It was better to pack light. The way she figured, this mission would be over fast, with her either safe at Garden with Seifer, or 6 feet under.

A lone figure was standing in the parking garage.

"You're going after him." Squall sidled into the soft fluorescent lights, a dim glow casting over his face. "By yourself, I see." His face was emotionless.

"You would do the same for Rinoa," she countered, "Besides, I don't need an army on a stealth mission." Squall raised an eyebrow.

"Is that what this is? A stealth mission?" He shoved his hands into his pockets. "From what I've gathered, suicide mission is more accurate. You really don't know what you're up against."

Squall's icy-cool disposition normally would have rattled her, but she remained unfazed. "You'd be surprised." She replied coldly. "You might have given up on Seifer, but I haven't. I'll get him back." To her surprise, Squall's stone-cut face broke into a small smile.

"I won't stop you. I would do the same for Rinoa." He paused. "Although I'm not stupid. I've already gotten the coordinates from Irvine. If there's no word from you in 2 days, I'm sending in reinforcements. No matter what the outcome, the consequences will be on your shoulders. Are you prepared to accept that?"

Quistis nodded slowly. That did put a little extra pressure on the deal. When she stopped to think about it, it did seem a little rash – breaking into some base with no clear intentions - to the normal public and government, of course. However, she had a sinking feeling that the longer she waited, the worse things would turn out…for everyone. "I'm more than prepared, Squall."

"Then what are you waiting for?" With a graceful sidestep and an arm sweep, he gestured her towards the parking lot exit. Only when the roar of the engine had faded off to a dull rumble in the distance did Squall take another step.

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"So…let's hear it." Seifer tried to assume a comfortable position, but failed after several attempts. Sighing in defeat, he turned towards the doctor. At least his hearing was still sharp as ever.

"I don't know everything about "Project Rogue", but I can tell you everything I know. 'Alec', as you – and most people at Balamb Garden - suspects he isn't just a police chief. I don't know his real name, what organization he works for, or how he obtained this underground base…there's a lot of unknowns around this place. I was pretty much forced to work here…he threatened to kill my family…as I said before, I'm a leading scientist in regeneration and genetics. He has a whole team of us – more geneticists, engineers, programmers, tacticians, weaponsmiths, you name it. I'm assuming he's threatened or bribed the rest of them as well." He paused to take off his glasses and clean them.

"From what I can gather, Alec is trying to create the ultimate weapon. A tactical mastermind, able to analyze and react to any situation, and be able to recover from fatal injuries. Alec started with just engineers and programmers, trying to create an ideal robot – the Mobile Type 9, as you saw it, was his previous project. But the programmers were unable to recreate the primal human instincts that Alec was looking for, and the Mobile Type 9 was too difficult to repair."

"Alec…created that metal bastard? He…must have some team working for him – it was the toughest opponent…I've ever faced." Seifer winced as his torched left arm flared in pain. "And…it…wasn't…good enough…for him?"

"Clearly. Science and technology have come so far, but they can't create AI that can compare to human's adaptability. So Alec decided to have the best of both worlds. During the Second Sorceress War, he was watching every conflict carefully to find an appropriate "host". And you were that host he was looking for. Hanging on for dear freedom – by some miracle your slaughters were dismissed…" He stopped when he saw the grimace on Seifer's face. Clearly he wasn't a fan of where the topic had turned.

"He was just waiting for you to slip up, find some excuse to put you away. And well, as it just so happened, you did. It didn't matter what name you were going under, he's been tracking you for longer than you know. Before you even entered this building, he knew your strengths and weaknesses."

"F'ing…bastard…" Seifer closed his eyes. If I didn't attack that guy that day, how long would they have kept trailing me? How did nobody in Garden know about this? How did he managed to manipulate the entire Balamb Police Force? Too many questions, but at least some of them were being answered.

"Would you like me to stop?"

"No, no…I need…to know…all I can."

"Very well. Ever since you started your 'training' here – you know that chain of yours? Be thankful you never tried to rip it off." Seifer opened his eyes and looked at the doctor questioningly. He had never thought to try and take it off, and be able to pass through the gates un-electrocuted. "Surprised? Thought so. That chain of yours is connected to a tiny chip implanted in your brain. I, myself, was ordered to do the procedure. If the chain is broken, the resulting disconnection would ultimately kill you instantly. Same as if you tried to walk through one of your armed doors. Alec also has a remote that can trigger the 'death shock'. Now, there was another purpose to this chain of yours." He cleared his throat.

"That chain has been recording all of your actions, be it your battles or your recovery periods, into coded format. Alec is using your tactics, your reactions, your fighting style and skill – and turning it into AI."

Seifer's face blanched. This was no time for modesty, if his data was implanted into a mobile Type 9…nothing could stop it.

"Now do you see why Alec was pushing you to your very limits? Although you've come close to killing yourself from the strain. Do you know, thanks to my research and techniques, that your body regenerates and recovers from damage twice as fast?"

"Thanks to your research…and techniques…Mobile Type 9s are going…to slaughter anything that stands…against them." He regretted the words immediately. The doctor was only doing this to keep his family from being murdered by Alec.

"I'm not proud of it, you know." He chuckled ruefully. "This whole story only gets worse. You are expendable at this point – Alec has more than enough data ready for the Mobile Type 9s. If you die, then Project Rogue is finished and the new project begins."

"So…this is all pointless? There's nothing…we can do?"

"Well, no, not exactly…."

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Alec tapped the table impatiently. All but one of his elite task force was present at the table. The geneticist – Friedman, that was his name, was late. He picked up his cell phone and roughly punched a quick combination of numbers on the keypad.

"Friedman! You're late for the meeting! What's your excuse?"

"Sorry, sir, the patient needed to be stabilized…"

"Is he stable now?"

"Yes, but –"

"Then get your sorry ass down here, pronto."

"Yes, sir."

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Quistis peered down at the black box. According to her GPS unit, she was directly on top of Alec's location. It fit right in with everyone's suspicions, Alec was running an underground establishment.

Now, the hard part started. She looked around warily. She was right smack-dab in the middle of a bustling market, small shops and businesses surrounded her form every angle. The entrance could be anywhere! Sighing in frustration, she guided her bike away from the busy street and headed towards the police station. Chances are the entrance had to be closer to there. Besides, an equipped SeeD and a motorcycle stood out in this crowd like a beach ball in a puddle.

With a shrill ring, her cell phone went off. Quistis, forgetting where she had placed it when packing her supplies. It wailed for another 10 seconds before Quistis found it nestled between a bottle of antiseptic and a standard-issue knife. With a sharp exhale, she straightened up, pushing the hair out of her eyes.

"Trepe."

"Yo, Quistis, I forgot to tell you something."

"Irvine? What is it?"

"Your GPS unit is programmed to record movement over time. You can see the paths taken during the past minute, fifteen minutes, half hour, hour, 2 hours, or day. There's a clasp on the back – take it off, and you'll see the controls there. That might help you pinpoint the entrance. I'm working on it too; I'll let you know what I find."

"Thanks Irv." She closed her phone with a resounding click, and then hastily opened it again to set the ringer to "vibrate". She certainly didn't need another heart attack today.

Wheeling her bike into some shade, she sat down on a nearby bench, watching the screen of her GPS intently, pausing occasionally to take a drink of water or a bite of energy bar. She had been feeling so tired lately, more so than usual. It wasn't just her lack of sleep; she could feel her magic energy draining as well. She didn't get very many chances to use blue magic outside of training, but for some reason, just recently, her magical energy had nearly dropped to rock-bottom – and she'd been recovering ever since. Unable to explain the phenomenon, she just shrugged it off and kept going.

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"Sorry, Seifer, Alec is summoning me to one of his meetings. I'll check up on you when it's over, ok?"

Seifer nodded as much as his neck would allow. He looked forward to the visit, it seemed like it had been forever and a day since he had had someone treat him so…civilly. As the doctor left the room, he let out a shallow sigh of relief. Most of the pain was dulled now, so he just felt a continuous throb throughout his entire body. And for the first time since he arrived in this room, he looked to see just how bad his injuries were.

"Holy shit." His arm was the color of dried blood, causing a slight panic attack, but once he realized he could still move it, and it still hurt, (at least pain meant he could feel something) he relaxed a bit. His joints ached, and his chest felt unbelievably fragile. That Hyne-damned machine had certainly exacted a good deal of damage on him.

Seifer was afraid to see his face. If he ever got to see Quistis again, would she even recognize him? The only defining feature he had left was his facial scar, which felt strangely fresh, as if it had been carved by the Mobile Type 9 instead of Squall's gunblade. His hair tickled his shoulders; he never realized it was getting so long. His jade-fire eyes had lost their spark and spirit. He was just an empty shell of a soldier. His job here, apparently, was finished. Alec didn't need him any more. And now, he had provided all the data Alec needed to create a terrifying military force.

This was all Quistis' fault. If he didn't live for her, none of this would've happened. But think about it, his conscience reasoned. If Alec didn't use you for his experiments, I'm sure he would have found somebody else. Squall, perhaps, or even Quistis for all you know!

Pssh, they have spotless records. They're heroes. The whole world would be on high alert if any of them went missing. Nobody's missing me. I won't be around when they're dealing with countless mechanical versions of me.

Don't forget, there's a way to avoid that outcome. You heard that doctor. At least there's someone in this facility on your side. He's coming back after the meeting – you'll find out what you can do. For now, just try to rest up.

Following his inner voice of common sense, Seifer drifted off into a restless sleep.

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An abandoned hardware store. This was supposed to be the entrance? Quistis couldn't imagine Alec going into this building without arousing bystander's suspicions. Alec always looked like a million gil, this dump looked less than 2. Casting a few short glances around her to check for bystanders, she slowly stepped into the main lobby.

Discarded tools scattered the floor, the majority of them broken or rusted beyond repair. Any glass was shattered, and a good layer of dust covered every surface. A shell of a cash register stood on the counter, and a pile of receipts, yellowed with age, were spilled on every other surface. There was nothing that hinted towards a secret entrance at first.

Finally deciding that nothing in this store posed a threat to her, Quistis strolled back to her bike and grabbed the essentials. A small switchblade, which she carefully strapped to her thigh, a small canteen, some energy pills – which both fit into a small pouch on her back, and of course, Hyperion. Everything else she just left stashed on her bike, which she then tired to hide as well as she could in some nearby foliage. Now all that was left to find was the entrance.

Keeping a sharp eye on her GPS device, she went right up to right where Alec 'allegedly' entered his 'secret base'. A dirty, but otherwise blank, wall greeted her. Frowning, she began tapping the wall, listening intently for any change in sounds.

After 10 minutes of fruitless searching, she had come up with nothing that sounded any different than well, hitting a wall. Sighing, she started her second round of searching. A small screw embedded in the wall caught her eye. It looked a little too shiny for the rest of the store.

Stooping forward until she was at eye level with the screw, Quistis peered at it intently. "Ah, well, why not…" And she reached out her index finger and pressed it. With a small shudder and a small dusting of drywall, a large portion of the wall began to move. "Well, now." She stood up, and then took a step back. "They never said it would be this easy at Garden."

Picking up Hyperion, and sending one last glance at ground level Balamb, Quistis entered the unveiled steel elevator. "Here goes nothing."


End file.
